The New Adventures of School Rumble: Book 1
by Dr. Snooch
Summary: Tsukamoto Tenma is having dreams that are changing her perspective, whether she likes it or not. Meanwhile, a new misconstrusion puts Harima in a difficult position. Also, everyone's favorite innocent, good-natured young man Karasuma returns.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

_"Tenma," could be heard through the haze of sleep that still hung thick in her senses. "Tenma, wake up!" cried a beautiful blonde girl lightly shaking the young Tsukamoto awake._

_ "Eri…?" muttered the Tsukamoto girl._

_ "I'm in big trouble! I need a favor and you're the only one that can help me!" continued Eri._

_ Tsukamoto Tenma, still half asleep remained slumped for a moment. "Tenma…? Who's that?" she asked, still not fully aware._

_ She stood up and considered herself and her perspective in relevance to her position. Her eyes widened, and she cried "Hey! Hold on a minute—have I always been this tall?"_

_ For some reason, Tenma was now 165 centimeters tall._

_ "I'm sorry to bother you, Tenma, but I can't find my textbook and without it, I can't study. I would buy a new one, but I lost my wallet, too. And I have to take the big exam tomorrow." She looked down at her shoes, tears welling in her eyes. "Why do I have to be such a loser?"_

_ "Don't worry! I'll give you mine!" replied Tenma, smiling._

_ "But then you wouldn't be able to study!" whispered Eri._

_ "That's okay, because I've already memorized the entire book!" Tenma said with a wink._

_ "Thank you so much, Tenma." said Eri as she took Tenma in a dramatic embrace._

_ "It's okay! You should always help out when a friend's in need," replied Tenma, returning an identical warmness._

_ Soon after that, Tenma received a similar problem with her friends Akira and Mikoto. They had needed help with a math problem, and she solved it easily. For some reason, her IQ ascended to 165._

_ A similar pattern occurred throughout her day. Gradually, she discovered that the height of her jump was 165 centimeters, her record for wrestling matches was 165-0, she scored 165 points in karaoke, and she turned down dates from 165 boys respectively._

* * *

><p><em>The young girl sighed, her improved height, IQ, and charisma only newly discovered as she leaned in the sill of the window in the solitary classroom. The only light that penetrated into the empty chamber was the soft yellow-orange light of the day's end, adding to the dreamlike romanticism of the whole day with that subtle beauty. <em>

_ "What a pickle," she said aloud to herself. "Everyone seems to really like me… and that makes me happy." Tsukamoto Tenma's eyes lowered, and she blew another sigh, this one of vague sadness. "…But what about him, the boy that I really like?"_

_ She stood there, looking down at the school yard listlessly for what seemed like a few minutes._

_ "Miss Tsukamoto," said a strong, soft voice, interrupting her contemplation._

_ She jumped a little, startled by the sudden disturbance. "Who is it?" she called as she turned around to view the speaker. She turned around completely to face him, and a troubled look crossed her features as she nervously slipped both her arms in front of her._

_ "What's the matter? You look so serious…" she observed quietly._

_ "Listen," said the young man with the whiskers and the sunglasses. "There's something important I need to tell you,"_

_ A moment passed as Tenma stared at him, perplexed._

_ "I love you," he declared, finally._

_ "No, wait! That can't be true! No!" cried a flustered Tsukamoto. "Harima, I thought you had feelings for Yakumo!"_

_ "I don't. Since I met you, you're the only one I've loved," replied Harima Kenji, the evening sun reflecting off of his dark spectacles. _

_ A gasp escaped her as she took a step back. A small breeze could have knocked her over in that moment as she considered the man._

_ "Tenma," he started. "Go out with me,"_

* * *

><p>Her eyes popped open and she jumped completely upright in her chair, a surprised gasp escaping her lips. After a long moment of silence, she studied her surroundings, finding herself in the library. She had been studying for final exams, but that had become less relevant, obviously, for she had fallen asleep.<p>

"Oh, it was just a dream…" Tsukamoto Tenma sighed and relaxed again, folding back onto the table, resting her head on her folded arms. "Why would I have one like that?" she whined. "It was so weird and silly…!" She mulled the dream over again, recalling the end. "But still…" The young Tsukamoto pictured Harima Kenji saying those words. She replayed it over and over in her mind: "I love you."

"I was surprised to hear Harima say that…" she said, and lowered her gaze in consideration of that imaginary moment of unpredicted romance.

She studied her surroundings again to try to dismiss the notion of that dream. It was the same yellow-orange from the dream.

"Its late." she sighed, rolling her eyes. "I can't study now…!" She thrust her books into her backpack and zipped it closed. She threw it over her back and started out of the School Library.


	2. The Worst Chapter

**E/N:** As it is fittingly called, this, I think, is the worst chapter. I say so because I basically had to rewrite the entire episode (_Spoiler alert_~except for the very end!) to make this work. Nonetheless, I encourage you to read on because (1), I put this through a couple of drafts to make sure I did it right, and (2), I will be posting fresher content in the future.

**Chapter 1**

**The Worst Chapter**

He sat in the classroom, watching her, like he always did. He could do so at his leisure, he knew, because his sunglasses hid the movement of his eyes. But he didn't wear them just for that reason.

A few years previous, Harima Kenji had been a delinquent of enormous proportion—a mad dog, only thinking of himself and whatever would benefit him at the moment. That was, of course, until one day, a good-sized rival delinquent had tried to hurt a girl with black pig-tails on either sides of her head. Seeing that, he thought only of what a good opportunity that would be to fight. After knocking that guy out, he asked her if she was okay, insincerely, of course. When she replied, he got a good look at her, and found her surprisingly attractive. After seeing blood on him, she fainted, and Harima couldn't risk leaving her, so he brought her to his place, affording him a good long look at her. He then decided that she was cute—cute enough to kiss, in fact. Reasoning that other delinquents in his position would do just that, he leaned in, and to his surprise, he was swallowed by her nocturnal embrace, unable to free himself. When she arose, she found the position they were in shocking and left, convinced that he was trying to take advantage of her.

Harima fell in love with her then. This year, he had enrolled in the same class as her, so that he could be near her—to see her every day. He had since grown out his hair and disguised himself as to not have Tenma Tsukamoto become aware of his past identity, and hence, the pervert she thought he was.

So there he was, sitting at his desk, subtly watching her through the security of his dark glasses. His face was thin, and he held his black medium-long hair back using a thin headband. On his face he sported a very small Fu-Manchu mustache and a goatee. He was tall and he wore a white, collared shirt under his considerable black leather jacket.

He noted that she looked upset about something. With the skills that he fancied were subtle and ninja-like, he casually took his seat closer to her conversation and eavesdropped.

"Are you saying that stupid tests are more important than my _birthday_?" Tenma complained to her friends, Mikoto more than the others.

"No, it's just that we all have things we have to do tomorrow, on top of the tests! Tell you what—after the exams end, we'll throw you a belated birthday party."

"Oh really?" asked Tenma, her grief seeming to dissipate somewhat.

_What?_ Harima thought, his eyes widening behind the cover of the pumped his fist. _That's my chance! What if me and Tenma went to celebrate her birthday, just the two of us? And my birthday's coming up, too! If I get on her good side, she'll definitely reciprocate!_ thought Harima, already fabricating a plan for his beloved. He let his mind wander through the possibilities and he grew excited, breathing heavier as a result of his racing heart. His excitement scarcely contained, his back straightened tightly.

"What's wrong with whiskers?" muttered Eri, glaring in Harima's direction.

"He looks like he's constipated," added Mikoto.

Tenma only looked at him blankly, recalling the dream she had. She then let out a groan, quickly looking away.

"What's the matter with you, Tenma?" asked Mikoto.

"Who, me? It's nothing…" she lied, forcing a smile.

"You're upset because Karasuma isn't here, right?" Akira reasoned, her monotonous tone and indifferent mannerisms radiating an almost stifling calm wherever she was.

That was true. Karasuma was gone—absent until the next week.

"Where is he; do you know?" asked Mikoto, leaning over her desk on her elbow.

"I really don't know. I tried calling him, but he won't even answer his phone." said Tenma, shrugging.

"Hmm, that's weird. But that's nothing new, knowing that Karasuma…!" the blonde bombshell Eri Sawichka chimed in, affording her agreeing nods.

* * *

><p>Harima Kenji sat cross-legged in the center of his room, in concentration. He wore no shirt; he just let his naturally muscular frame heave rhythmically with deep breaths unhindered by the material of a top.<p>

"Okay," he sighed. "I've got to get a plan together for tomorrow." said Harima.

Harima stood up and started out his bedroom door in one motion. He snuck through the darkness of the apartment in the night. He snooped around for a long while and found a magazine entitled _Yagami Area Winter Dating Spots_, which was a magazine that showed off a lot of different dating spots around the area.

"With this," he said, flipping through a few pages. "Nothing will stand in my way!"

The next morning, Harima put on his best formal-casual clothes and put his plan through its final stages of its development.

"All right! This plan is perfect! I want her to think that I'm a classy guy, so I'll start by showing her the famous sight-seeing spots of Tonorimachi, and then a meal at the _Morino Yagata's Western Cuisine Restaurant_!" He considered his choice for a brief moment. "The price is a bit high, but if that's what it takes to make Tenma satisfied, then so be it! …I took the whole 30,000 Yen I was saving for a new bike for this! But it'll be worth it to make her happy on her Birthday!" he continued to soliloquize. "Now, all I've got to do is think of a way to invite her…"

Minutes passed as he thought about it.

"Big brother!" called Shuuji, the younger brother of Harima's, who quickly entered and nudged his back. Harima tried hard to ignore him.

"I was thinking," started Shuuji. "Since today is my Birthday and all…"

"Whooptie-_fucking_-doo!" interrupted Harima, finding his smaller brother more than a little bothersome.

"You should take me somewhere!" continued Shuuji, not missing a beat. He then quickly added "then again, it might get boring if it's just the two of us." He said nothing for a second. "I know! You should invite some of your friends! Then we could all have fun together! …Like that cute _Tsukamoto_ girl, for example?" he suggested, referring to Tenma's younger sister Yakumo.

"Shuuji!" roared Harima, turning to face him.

Shuuji froze in place, genuinely afraid that he had overstepped his bounds.

Harima then grinned and poked his thumb upward, saying "All right…!" which dismissed any fear that Shuuji had, and so he returned that same grin.

* * *

><p>Tenma and Akira walked down the paved path, heading for the coordinates that Harima had mentioned. Harima had invited her and her choice of friends to join him and his little brother—whoever that was—in celebration of the latter's birthday.<p>

The elder Tsukamoto took notice of two figures a few meters away, and she immediately donned a smile as she quickened her pace.

"Hi, Harima!" she called as she approached. "Sorry to make you wait!" she surprised herself at how excited she was to see Kenji.

"Yo," greeted Harima, facing her.

"Oh, look who's here!" remarked Tenma. "It's the sassy boy from way back when! Remember that you still owe me for—"

"Shut up! I don't remember you doing anything for me! I just wanted Yakumo…!"

Shuuji's statement was cut short by Harima grabbing him by his ear and roughly pulling him backward. "He's glad you could make it," attested Harima.

"Are you crazy?" started Shuuji, but he was cut short again by another tug on his ear.

"Oh, this guy!" laughed Harima. "What a joker—he asked me specifically to invite you to celebrate his birthday with us, Tenma!"

"Yeah? Isn't that sweet! Aren't you just precious?" Tenma laughed.

"No!" denied Shuuji, and similarly was awarded another tug on his ear.

"He's a regular comedian!" laughed Harima, not looking at Shuuji as he gave the ear another hard squeeze.

"Is that so?" whispered Akira, squinting in Harima's direction.

"Oh, by the way, Eri and Mikoto had plans, so they couldn't come," added the eldest Tsukamoto suddenly, smiling and cocking her head apologetically.

_All according to my calculations…! _thought Harima, sneering.

"Do you know a lot about this city?"

"What's the matter? Does that surprise you? Don't let my appearance fool you; I am quite the scholar of scenic and historic sites…" said Harima. "I just might teach you a thing or two today."

* * *

><p>"This ancient shrine is a landmark. I like to call it <em>The Solitary Beauty<em>," explained Harima as he walked up the short stairway leading to the famous landmark. He walked them through a tour around it for a couple minutes, until they came upon the other side, where the road and the traffic were visible once again.

"That's all there is?" asked Tenma after a moment. "There's nothing else to see?"

"…Solitary Beauty? Yeah right… It's just some deserted old temple…!" said Shuuji.

"Shut your mouth!" Harima hollered, sticking his hands in his pockets indignantly. "The next place will be spectacular!"

* * *

><p>"This is the famous Hasegawa Temple," announced Harima, approaching its entrance. "The backcourt's trees are brimming with crimson leaves this time of year. Plus you can see the ocean—it's quite a dramatic view…"<p>

"Oh, wow! I can't wait to see it…!" Tenma giggled.

"Don't worry, you will. Just hold your horses! We've got to pay the admission, first." smiled Harima, and he led the others to the booth.

"Sorry, we're closed. Try coming back again when we're open." the woman inside suggested as she shut the window of the stand.

Harima quickly turned back, and the others hesitated behind him.

* * *

><p>"Dramatic view, hmm?" Akira remarked, following Harima down the walkway.<p>

"Nothing dramatic about it," added Shuuji. "More like traumatic—this is boring."

"Imagine how disappointing this would be if it were a date," she commented.

"Yeah, it's like some sad guy stayed up all night and planned for this,"

"You know, some guys actually do that and think that everything will work itself out," Akira pointed out.

"Really? Wow, those guys have to be really dumb," Shuuji replied.

_Damn it! Just because they're along for the ride, they think they can say anything they want! At this rate, it can only get worse…_ Harima cogitated, clenching his teeth.

He glanced behind himself and saw Tenma, her smile disappeared.

"That was too bad, huh? What a shame," offered Tenma.

_Tenma's looking at me with pity…! Damn it! It's the girl I love's birthday, and I can't even make her smile! What kind of celebration is this? I've only got one more chance… Dinner! I've gotta hang in there!_

About an hour passed as Harima wandered through the city, Akira, Tenma, and Shuuji trailing behind. The sky had gotten dark, the late sunset making the sky a purple-pink hue.

"Do you know where you're going?" Akira asked after a while.

"Harima, you're not lost, are you?" Tenma asked, picking up her pace to walk beside him in order to look at him more directly.

"No, I'm not lost," he lied.

Harima, in fact, was genuinely worried that he had gotten them lost as he trekked. Panic was surely creeping on him as he made his way through the now-dark city streets, although stoutly did he deny the accusations that he was lost… That continued for some time until he came upon the entrance to an exotic building with a sign that read _Morino Yagata's_.

Kenji stood there for a few moments and then smirked. "See? I told you so."

"This is it? Look's expensive," Shuuji remarked.

"Yeah, so what?"

"No training wear, sandals, or shorts allowed…" quoted Akira, reading from the sign outside the structure. "Are you sure you can afford a place with a dress code?"

"Of course I can afford it!" growled Harima, seeming upset. "Let's go…!"

* * *

><p>"Wow! It's such a fancy restaurant!" squeaked an excitable Tenma, peeking all around the surrounding area.<p>

"Hey," said Shuuji. "This seriously is a nice place, but do you really have the money for it?" he asked, and Harima didn't respond right away.

"Umm, yeah…" muttered Harima. "No problem! I-I actually come here all the time…" He shifted uncomfortably.

"Your menu, sir." prompted the waiter, handing Harima a menu, which were subsequently passed out to all four guests.

"Thank you," stammered Harima, and he opened it, examining the item's price ranges.

Thousands… Tens of thousands…

A wave of panic rolled over Harima as he considered the prices. He didn't have nearly enough money to pay for anything in singularity, even…

"On second thought…" he started, or tried too.

"Oh, what a variety!" cried Tenma, looking over the menu. "Even the names sound delicious! I don't know how I could possibly choose!" she smiled warmly.

Harima held his tongue. He couldn't say it. He couldn't possibly tell her that he didn't have enough money when she looked so happy.

"What shall you be ordering this evening?" inquired the waiter.

"…Water…" said Harima, not looking up to face the man.

"Four mineral waters… Will you be ordering anything else?" said the member of staff serving at the table, not seeming very amused.

"Yeah, of course…! We'll have four of your chef's specials…"

"Very good, sir…"

* * *

><p>"Woah!" whispered Shuuji as his entrée was served. It was a generous slab of steak, cooked medium rare and covered in a light mushroom sauce with a side of sautéed carrots, broccoli, potatoes, and asparagus.<p>

"This looks delicious!" exclaimed Tenma.

Naturally, as everyone's food was served to them, they began to eat. Shuuji dropped his fork and cried, whispering "Delicious… so delicious…"

"I love it—I mean this food! It's the best I've ever had! Harima, thank you!" said Tenma, smiling at him.

"Yeah, of course…" Harima said, keeping his cool. "It's no problem,"

_So you say…_ observed Akira, who remained inconspicuous.

Harima sat in the seat, perfectly still, trying to come up with a means of payment for the dinner. The total amount for all four meals came down to about 136,000 Yen, and short by more than 100,000, he was becoming anxious.

His three companions were eating their dessert when the waiter returned.

"Pardon me," the waiter began. "Are you ready for the check now, sir?"

In panic, Harima tried to stall him using conversation that he had overheard behind him from some genuinely rich people; they had been discussing how the leaves had changed their color rather early that year. "So, uh…" he stuttered. "I really like leaves."

"Excuse me?" asked the waiter, confused.

"I'm just saying that leaves are positive and splendid sometimes, you know?" Harima stammered, trying to fabricate a point to keep the waiter away so that he could think of a way to repair his dilemma.

"I'm sorry…?"

"I mean autumn leaves sure are pretty, aren't they?"

The waiter gave him a long, incredulous look and remained silent.

"Could you show me where the restroom is?" Harima suddenly asked, suspecting that the waiter was beginning to catch on—that he was stalling.

"Right this way." replied the waiter, motioning for Kenji to follow him.

_I'm sorry, Tenma,_ thought Harima as he glanced back at the one he loved, following the staff member. _I guess I'm going to see that sad look on your face again…_

Once he and the waiter were a safe distance away, he finally remarked, "The check…" and the waiter turned around to regard him. "You see…"

"His dinner is on me," interjected Eri Sawichika, handing the waiter her card. She was wearing a flowing white gown, and her hair was not in two long pony-tails as it was seen during school, but rather let down her back—but it was by no means untidy.

"Ah, miss Sawichika," greeted the waiter. "And how was your meal this evening?"

"Well, frankly, the conversation was boring. The food was delicious, though."

"Why, I am always glad to hear that. Good night."

"Rich girl…!" Harima whispered, facing her.

Sawichkika didn't even look at him. "You're eating with Tenma, right? You shouldn't keep a girl waiting on her birthday. I'm only doing this for her, so don't get any ideas …" she explained. "Now hurry up and get back to your seat."

* * *

><p>Tenma had gotten up to see where Harima had gone—even though she overheard him talking to the waiter about the restroom, but something simply didn't feel right. She walked in the direction he had gone, her eyes swiftly scanning the area. Tsukamoto turned the corner.<p>

She laid her eyes on Harima and… Eri!

"Eri!" she called excitedly. "You're here, too? Great; come have dessert with us!"

"Oh, Tenma! What a coincidence." Eri greeted. "I hope I'm not imposing."

Harima watched them as they left, and he knew that he owed that rich girl.

* * *

><p>"Thank you, Harima!" Tenma giggled. "Today was so much fun!"<p>

Harima watched her, his neck stiffening with nervousness. "Yeah, it was, wasn't it? …Pretty much perfect!" he said, and he considered his next move. He swallowed hard.

"Hey, Tenma!" said Harima suddenly. "Did you know that tomorrow is my birthday?"

"Is it?" she asked, smiling.

"Yeah, his birthday's a day after mine!" Shuuji confirmed.

"Wow, that's so crazy!" Tenma laughed. "I don't know if you knew this, but it's my birthday today, too, Shuuji-boy!"

"Yeah, that's part of the reason I invited you!" Harima added, his now-red cheeks unnoticeable in the darkness of the night.

"Weird," Akira said quietly, and Eri, who stood next to her, nodded her agreement.

"So you can say that you killed two birds with one stone by inviting me?" laughed Tenma.

Harima was silent for a long moment. "Right," he muttered.

"So how are you going to celebrate tomorrow, Harima?" Tenma did ask.

"Well, you see, I don't have anything planned, exactly." he affirmed.

"You mean you don't have anyone to spend it with?" she asked.

"Nope," he shrugged, and he chuckled quietly.

"In that case, we should do something tomorrow!"

"You mean it? Yeah, that would be great!" said Harima, beaming like he never did before. Could this mean a date? Would it be just the two of them—like he had planned?

"It's a date, then!" laughed Tenma, heading up the walk to take her leave.

Harima smiled, gazing at her as she walked away.

Shuuji and Akira shot Harima confused looks, and Eri seemed hurt that Harima was ogling _Tenma_ in such a manner.

"…No, we're just good friends," said Harima as a response to the looks he got.


	3. Doesn't Matter, I Guess

**E/N: **I've re-uploaded this with updated text, on account of errors that I spotted in the original. ...Now I'm happy.

**Chapter 2**

**Doesn't Matter, I Guess**

The theme song to _Three for the Kill—_Harima's favorite TV show_—_sounded from the mobile phone on the desk. He knew who it was calling him—he had been waiting patiently all morning—and Harima could not contain his excitement as he rushed across the apartment and fumbled the phone in his hands before flipping it open and bringing it up to his ear.

"Hello!" he blurted loudly, but then quickly steadied himself. "Yo," he greeted quietly.

"_Harima!_" Tenma's voice responded from the phone. "_Happy Birthday!_" she giggled.

_It's like a dream, _Harima thought, his lips curling into a soft smile.

"_Did you want to go somewhere today?_" the young Tsukamoto asked.

Harima hadn't thought of that. He considered the question for a moment.

"How about the zoo?" he asked. Harima had befriended numerous animals while on a spiritual journey, and when he could no longer keep them in the school's gym, he reluctantly had them taken to the zoo. So he went to the zoo regularly to visit his animal friends. Now that he was taking Tenma on a date that day, he figured that he could impress her with how great he was with animals.

"_Oh! That sounds like fun—I haven't been to the zoo in such a long time!_" said Tenma.

Harima pumped his fist in the air. _Score one for Harima!_

"Great!" said Harima. "Meet me there at 3 o'clock?"

"_Oh yeah! Sounds like a plan! See you there, Harima_!"

"I'll see you at 3, then! Later!"

* * *

><p>Tenma Tsukamoto clapped her cellular phone shut and replaced it on the kotatsu. She considered again the fact that she was going to spend another day with Harima. She found the situation awkward, foolishly so, she believed, considering the stupid dream she had the other day. However, she knew that her dreams weren't reality. She also knew that spending more time with Harima would put things into perspective for her. The teenage girl figured that this was an opportunity for an exercise that would help her forget about that ridiculous delusion<p>

"Sis," a soft, breathy voice from behind called tenderly, almost inaudibly.

"Oh, hi Yakumo!" greeted a suddenly cheery Tenma loudly.

Yakumo was Tenma's younger sister, although she was commonly mistaken for her senior as she was much taller, was more developed in feminine physique, and was simply more mature than her. She was renowned at the school for her beauty; her hair was medium-short and black in color and she was possessed of mysteriously piercing red eyes.

The younger Tsukamoto was calm and collect most of the time, rarely showing her more intimate emotions. She considered herself shy and rather unsocial. This mainly had to do with subconsciously keeping her behavior controlled as a result of constantly smothering a lot of aggression toward her older sister when they were children.

"Who were you talking to?" Yakumo quietly asked her older sister.

Tenma hesitated. Logical reasoning told her that if she revealed to her sister that she was going somewhere with her boyfriend, that could raise some suspicion. "Mikoto," she said all too quickly. "Did you think that I might be calling Harima? Why would I?" She rolled her head and let out an obviously counterfeit guffaw.

"It's okay if you were calling Harima," Yakumo informed her sister. "I told you that it's not what you think between us."

Tenma sighed and shook her head. "Oh, Yakumo… Always in denial," she let that statement hang in the air for a moment. "Fine, I was calling Harima. It's his birthday today and I was going to go meet him at the zoo," she explained, but then quickly added "and that's all!"

"I said its okay," Yakumo insisted, somewhat unconvincingly. There was reason behind that unconvincing tone she took: Yakumo had indeed grown fond of Harima—she had spent many hours with him, assisting him with his manga career. She did very well to repress her feelings, though.

Tenma smiled widely suddenly, bursting into an upright position. "I've got it!" she cried. "_We're_ going to the zoo with Harima! That way _I_ can celebrate Harima's birthday with him and _you_ can have a nice date at the same time; it's perfect!"

Yakumo only sighed, feigning exasperation. "If you say so, sis." she said, but the blush on her cheeks betrayed her.

* * *

><p>Harima was excited as he could ever be, pacing at the Zoo's front gate, occasionally hopping up and down, punching the air.<p>

"I'm so pumped! I'm going to make this the greatest date Tenma's ever been on!" he whispered, continuing his frantic pacing.

"Harima!" cried that too-cute voice, and it did Kenji's heart good to hear it, that cheerful voice making him feel a profound warmness in his very soul. "There you are!"

The fiery love-filled eyes hidden behind the dark sunglasses on the young man's face flared with intensity as he spun around to view Tenma in all her splendor. His wide, wide grin shrunk though, when he looked upon Tenma's companion: her sister Yakumo. A number of misunderstandings led to the popular rumor that Harima was seeing Yakumo, as in dating her—and Tenma was a believer of that rumor, no less!

Harima was disappointed—heartbreakingly so—but to his credit, he did very well to hide it. "Oh, Tenma's sister," he observed, offering a quick wave. "How's it hanging…?"

"Hi Harima," said Yakumo quietly, brushing a lock of her black hair back with her hand.

Harima flashed a smile at the pair. "Glad you could make it,"

* * *

><p>He blinked through the binoculars. He had suspected that it would be Harima that was taking his precious Yakumo!<p>

"Yakumo…" he whispered, certainly not for the first time.

The martial artist beheld the young Tsukamoto, eyeing her for a long time, sweating as he watched her, along with her older sister Tenma move close to Kenji Harima.

"That rat bastard," Haruki Hanai grumbled through clenched teeth. Harima was getting too close to Yakumo. This had to be stopped, he knew. He would make sure that Harima would pay for his actions in getting so close to that wonderfully beautiful girl.

Hanai considered himself a gentleman among gentlemen, though, and knew that any rash actions could result in the withdrawal of his title as a man. With that knowledge, he tucked the binoculars into his jacket's pocket, rising from his secretive perch in the bushes near to the monkey's cages.

He adjusted his burgundy-colored sweatshirt's hood and turned away from the figures he was spying on. "Yakumo," he whispered again as he retreated at a jogging pace.

* * *

><p>Harima strolled down the way in the zoo, his beloved Tenma and her younger sister in tow. <em>So much for a date with just the two of us<em>, Harima thought bitterly, frowning. _But at least I'm still with Tenma…_

Yakumo was walking directly beside Harima, much to her well-masked liking. As Kenji guided her and Tenma along, Yakumo took every opportunity she could muster to sneak a look of admiration at him, her cheeks growing hot with her hidden emotions. Behind them, Tenma trailed at the rear, somewhat somberly.

The eldest Tsukamoto watched the two intently, following closely behind. She found herself studying Harima closely, glimpsing his undeniably handsome angular face. Tenma took note of his strong, muscular frame and considered how kind he seemed to be—around her and Yakumo, at least. She allowed her thoughts to wander, envisioning what it would be like if she and Harima were a couple. The teenage girl pictured Harima offering her a picturesque bouquet of red roses, and she went on to imagine herself showing her appreciation with a kiss…

_No!_ she thought, shaking her head vehemently. Tenma was in love with Karasuma! Why did she let that ridiculous dream build up in her thoughts like that? She let out a resigned sigh, dismissing the notion altogether.

* * *

><p>The trio approached a wide open space surrounded by two layers of fencing. The great, long-necked beast perked up immediately as it recognized the truth of the approaching figures. He started excitedly toward them, in that odd trot inherent in those beasts.<p>

"This handsome guy here is—" Harima started to say, introducing the creature.

"Piauter," Yakumo finished for him, recognizing the giraffe. She had helped Harima take the beast, along with Harima's other animal friends, to the zoo after a news-covered controversy.

"Wow, isn't that the same giraffe from last time?" Tenma asked, her eyes aglow with wonder at how the giraffe seemed so affectionate for its friend.

"Oh, yeah," Harima said, remembering how Piauter had plucked Harima off of a bridge just before he was about to confess his love for Tenma. "It's him all right.

"Come, Piauter!" called Harima, and the beast stretched out its neck to the three, coming close enough to touch.

Tenma outstretched her arm toward it and stroked the spotted yellow and brown fur. Scratching a tuft of hair, she remarked "He's so sweet!" Then, to her astonishment and glee, Piauter turned his head and gave her forearm a wet lap with his lengthy tongue.

Piauter let out a strange moan, seeming to enjoy the feel of the female human's skin more than he should have.

Harima could only smile as he considered the situation playing out before him. It was a collision of worlds, he decided: the two things he most cared about—Tsukamoto Tenma and his animal friends—meeting in such a wonderful way right off the bat…

"He really likes you!" Kenji remarked, joining Tenma at the ledge, offering Piauter a scratch.

"Aren't _you_ a cute thing?" asked Tenma loudly, adopting a tone as if she were speaking to a puppy dog. "Who's a good boy? _Who's a good boy_?" she scratched at the giraffe's fur all the more fervently as her voice increased in volume and speed.

Yakumo stood there, staring at the marvelous creature, but her gaze shifted back to Harima, and she smiled at him softly.

* * *

><p>Hanai Haruki watched it all with mounting anxiety, crouched adjacent to a bush on higher ground, a ways away from the three he was watching. He watched Harima's display and took note of Yakumo's reaction—that excruciatingly beautiful smile…<p>

"He's obviously trying to impress Yakumo with his animal handling skills," he observed out loud to himself, wiping nervous sweat from his brow with his forearm. He winced and let out a low growl, his eyes lowering dangerously. "And it's working…" he muttered, at the same time replacing the binoculars in his pocket.

The young man gave a harrumph and pulled up the hood of his jacket, adjusting it to better disguise himself, and started away.

* * *

><p>Yakumo stood there, staring intently at herself in the mirror, fiddling with her hair this way and that alternatively. She pouted her lips subtly, showing her disapproval of her appearance as a result of her interference. The younger Tsukamoto immediately went back to work, brushing her hair behind one ear with a single hand and cocking head to the opposite side, shaking her head softly to let the hair fall naturally into place.<p>

She heard the flush of the toilet, and Tenma emerged from the stall and closed the door behind her, sighing with relief. "Hey, you haven't been talking to Harima a whole lot," Tenma observed. "Is there something wrong? This is _your_ date too, isn't it?"

"We haven't had the chance to talk yet," Yakumo replied plainly, not looking at her sister as she adjusted her breasts with her hands, staring intently at her chest in the mirror to make sure they were proportional.

Tenma did not seem convinced, joining her sister by the sinks.

"It's his birthday, today. Am I right, sis?"

"Yeah," answered Tenma, her tone showing that the reply was as much a question as it was an answer. She began to wash her hands.

"I'm going to give this to him," she said, reaching into her bag and producing what appeared to be a small box, enveloped in white wrapping and tied off with some blue ribbon.

"What is it?"

"That's a secret," said Yakumo, smiling.

Tsukamoto Tenma flashed a sly look at Yakumo, and silently considered that claim. Was it something love-related? Perhaps it was a confession letter, like she had considered giving Karasuma. In that moment, she thought that such an exchange would be disadvantageous for her.

But it was only for a moment.

Tenma smiled as she watched Yakumo continue to pretty herself up.

* * *

><p>Harima clasped his hands together patiently, sitting outside a large building on a nearby bench. He was awaiting the return of Tenma and her sister Yakumo, for they had gone to the bathroom—together, strangely.<p>

Sitting there, his demeanor became very intense and he adjusted the sunglasses, pushing them up higher on the bridge of his nose. He started to contemplate his interactions with Tenma. While just being in proximity to Tenma was satisfactory in his eyes, he felt that he was being neglectful of her. He silently promised himself that he would spend every possible second he could with her from that point forward.

Harima rose from his seat when he noticed the two girls approach. "Sure took your time," he remarked lightheartedly, drawing a little laugh from Tenma.

"When you gotta go…" she explained apologetically, still retaining her mirth.

Kenji paused as he noticed that Yakumo was staring straight at him, seeming expectant. He offered a quick smile, acknowledging her.

"Shit…" Yakumo muttered under her breath. Harima hadn't reacted to her hair.

Harima led them around the zoo for a couple hours more, and Tenma's sister was beginning to think that perhaps Harima wasn't happy with her, given how he wasn't talking with her.

As they walked, Tenma disengaged from a conversation with Harima, leaving him bewildered, running toward an animal cage. Inside the confine was a small mammal that Yakumo couldn't recognize right away.

"Tenma's sister," said Harima, turning to face the younger Tsukamoto. "You haven't been talking much."

Blushing slightly, she replied simply "There was nothing to talk about. Sorry,"

"You had me worried." admitted Harima. "You're sure you're okay?"

"It's nothing." she insisted, but paused.

"Oh, wait…" said Yakumo, reaching into her bag. From her bag she produced a small, white-wrapped box. "Happy Birthday,"

Harima stared at her hard. "You're really giving me this?" he asked. "After all you've done for me already?"

"Please take it," she insisted gingerly, bringing the gift to bear and presenting it before him.

Kenji took it into his hands and rolled it around reluctantly. "Thank you, Tenma's sister."

They were both silent for a moment.

"Hey, what are you guys talking about?" cried Tenma, facing them while crouching near the animal in the behind the cage.

"I gave Harima his gift," Yakumo explained.

Tenma didn't seem pleased at first, but quickly smiled and brandished an upturned thumb at her sister, smiling widely.

* * *

><p>It was getting dark out. With that knowledge, it was safe to say that they had effectively spent the entire day at the zoo. Harima walked along the pavement which he knew led to Tenma's house.<p>

Trekking steadily, he glanced in her direction, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle of her presence, as he did regularly. She looked so stunning, the way the light glistened off of her long black hair. Tenma was smiling, and that had Harima assured that he had done well on his date.

"Oh, Harima," Tenma suddenly said, facing the young man she was addressing, and he straightened. "I'm sorry that I didn't get you a gift,"

_Just seeing you is enough to satisfy me_… That's what Harima wanted to say, at least.

"Don't sweat it—the fun we had today was enough for me." Harima told her, drawing a perfect smile from Tenma, and Harima fell all the more in love with her.

Harima offered a wave of goodbye to the two girls as they started up the cement toward their house. Tenma reciprocated with an energetic wave back, and Yakumo merely smiled and nodded in his direction.

He watched Tenma the entire time, and he lingered outside for a few moments after she had disappeared from sight.

Sighing and sticking his hands in his pockets, he turned and headed for home, unknowing of the eyes peering at him from behind the blinds inside the house Tsukamoto.

* * *

><p>The city seemed gloomy and ominous in the darkness of the nighttime. The city streets and the surrounding buildings were bathed only in the meager yellow-orange light from the faintly glowing streetlight.<p>

Hanai paced back and forth at the top of the cement stair, watching the corner that he knew his victim would turn, awaiting his arrival. As he paced, he was muttering insistently, crazily. Stuffing his hands in the jacket's pockets, the young man considered his latest mission.

In the pocket, he felt the binoculars that he had used to watch Yakumo and the one she was with… Harima. The thought of that delinquent and Yakumo together bothered him—a lot. He had thought that their coupling was a simple misunderstanding. Harima was actually in love with Eri Sawichka…wasn't he? That, he knew with certainty, couldn't be true, given what he had witnessed. Harima and Yakumo walking side-by-side, like a couple, spending the whole day at the zoo…

That didn't seem right to him. He thought again of how Yakumo looked at Harima. Those mysteriously alluring red eyes were practically _glued_ to him, he had noted. Damn him! He blew a sigh, shuddering with the cold night air. He shook his head, determined to focus on the task at hand, and glanced at the corner again through the corner of his eye.

Harima was coming.

Hanai stared at the imposing man as he approached, clenching his fists in his pockets. Kenji began his ascent up the stairs, and Hanai counted the seconds as the rival teenager got closer and closer to the top.

Hanai, seeming inconspicuous, casually approached the top of the staircase. As Harima took his first step on the pavement on the level ground, Hanai broke into a sprint, rushing suddenly into the delinquent with a forceful shove.

"_Gah! Shit-fuck_!" Kenji Harima shouted in surprise and fear as he was pushed backward and was subsequently sent sprawling rearward onto his back into the jagged steps. Harima, jerking from recoil from the jolt of the shocking assault, inadvertently spun out of control, tumbling sidelong, bruising his ribs and back. During his fall, his head cracked against the stair railing, opening a wound on his forehead.

He fell for a few long heartbeats, cursing and grunting in pain with each rough impact. Finally, mercifully, the delinquent crashed painfully down at the base and curled into a fetal position, grunting and moaning in pain.

Hanai stared hard at the scene as it played out, and took a measure of satisfaction when he noted that Harima had blood trickling down the side of his head. Perhaps that would teach Harima a lesson or two about what happened when he crossed the likes of Hanai Haruki.

He spun around and vanished into the dark of the night.

**E/N:** For those of you wondering what Harima's gift was: I literally have no idea. I reviewed the episode and searched through the manga countless times and found no clue. So just forget about it.


	4. There, I Said It

**E/N: **It's been a while. A few months, actually. I had to take a break from this for a while (such is the life of a High School wrestler), but good news! I finally got around to writing it, and it is now released for your pleasure. So let's not have anymore distractions - start reading and enjoy! ;D

**Chapter 3**

**There, I Said It**

Dark black hair—a bowl cut—adorned his thin face. He was tall, and not particularly physical, his arms and legs sporting no substantial muscle mass. There he sat, his hands resting comfortably on his knees. The young man seemed ever indifferent, as he always—always did. His dark, uninterested eyes stared into the small window directly to his right as he simply sat there, saying nothing.

So typical of him.

Suspended 30,000 feet in the air, he stared at the seemingly endless ocean beneath the aircraft. He was on his way back to Japan, as he made frequent trips to America to test his head. There was a slight complication in his brain, but it was so far unidentified. The true good of it, though, was that it didn't seem to be risking him much.

Karasuma allowed himself a private smirk as he thought of what awaited him at his home in Japan. He thought of his classmates, especially about one in particular, by the name of Tsukamoto Tenma.

He knew beyond doubt that she was in love with him. He watched her blush around him and noticed her pained failures at confessing to him. She was terribly in love with him, he knew, but could he say that he felt the same way about her?

Perhaps.

He thought about her often enough and he did remain in Japan at her insistence, didn't he? Karasuma brought a hand to his chin and smiled slyly. He would figure something out that suited him.

* * *

><p>The classroom was silent, save for the ever-present sound of pencils scratching at the test packets that each student was leaning over.<p>

It was the third and final day of final exams testing. This meant that once this test was completed, the world came back into order.

Harima sat there, staring down at his test, as if he were facing off with it as he would an opponent before a fight. The pulsating intensity seemed to radiate around him, and others took note of the seemingly physical manifestation cautiously. He muttered to himself, his teeth clenched with frustration as he marked his answers down on the paper. The young man rubbed a hand against his forehead to feel the bandage, reminding him of his painful tumble the other night. He never found his attacker, but he was still on the lookout.

Across the room, Tsukamoto Tenma sat at her desk, idly staring off into the middle distance, unable to write a single word down. Suddenly, though, she sprung upright in her chair, seeming to come to some revelation.

She wrote her answers speedily, and with confidence, but gradually drew back into that idle position again.

* * *

><p>Harima took his attention off of his own paper, turning his eyes in the direction of Tenma. He knew that final exams were a big deal, and if he flunked, and Tenma moved on to the next grade while he stayed behind, it could do irreparable detriment to their relationship. And that was something that Harima could not allow to occur.<p>

The only problem with his mission, however, was that he was aware that he wasn't quite _the brightest knife in the crayon box_.

Harima glared down at his test angrily, concentrating on his test. He had to try his very best, for his and Tenma's sake.

_Okay,_ Harima thought, considering the latest question. He was hard at work at the Science section of the test. _Let's see—what is the capital city of the state of Ohio in the United States? …The fuck? I don't know that…! And isn't this supposed to be Science? Damn it…_

Harima let out a sigh. He was going to have to rely on borrowed knowledge for this section, he decided. And so, while it hurt him to do so, he had to find someone with answers he could copy from.

_Rich-Girl is smart, isn't she? _Harima thought as he considered Eri Sawichka. _Despite how hopelessly dumb she is, having beef with me, I'll bet her test grades are passing material_.

Kenji shifted his head subtly to put his vision in line with Eri, and to his surprise, Eri was looking straight at him. She was blushing severely, seeming to sweat a little, and didn't seem to notice Harima's gaze. What really caused Harima the most shock, though, was what he beheld upon further inspection of his classmate.

Eri had her hand slipped up deep into her skirt, and Harima took gruesome note of the telltale back-and-forth motion that indicated the vulgar act of masturbation. Harima wanted to cry out, but to his credit, he did not. However, he could not smother his flinch at the scene.

That slight motion revealed to Eri that she was discovered, and she quickly feigned scratching an itch on her inner thigh, trying to play it off.

It was too late, of course, and Harima slowly turned back to his own desk, turning his attention back to his test packet again. _I did not just see that…_

* * *

><p>It certainly took some elbow grease, but it was done. Tsukamoto Tenma had her final portion of the test completed. She performed a private fist-pump in celebration of the "defeat" of the examination test.<p>

She gave pause to glance behind her, at the empty desk where Karasuma should have been sitting. Where could he have gone? He just kind of disappeared every month, she noted. Where did he keep going?

The Tsukamoto girl sighed and she glanced to her right, where Harima was seated, and she noted that he was similarly in secret celebration of his completion of his test. How alike he and she were, in that respect!

Harima.

She blew another of her frequent sighs and shook her head. This was, like, the eleventh time she thought of Harima like that since the dream! Tenma really couldn't say that she thought it was unpleasant. She'd been dreaming about him for days, honestly, and in each dream at one point or another, he professed his love for her. She couldn't rightly deny that she had grown to fancy him somewhat—she even actually welcomed it sometimes—but she was determined to save her love for Karasuma.

Tsukamoto let her eyes remain on him for a few seconds longer, and then sighed in resignation, facing forward and planted her chin in two upturned palms which were supported by her elbows resting on her desk.

She silently promised herself that she would sort things out.

* * *

><p>Harima was walking down the hall, a can of green tea in hand. He brought the near-empty container up to his lips, tilting his head backward, and drained it with a final swig.<p>

"Good shit, Maynard." said Kenji as he gave a sigh. He dropped the can into the trash bin to his right as he walked past it, and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

It was then that he spotted Eri Sawichka walking in the direction opposite him, and she took note of his presence. He shook his head, deciding that he had to confront her about the occurrence that he witnessed.

"Rich Girl," he started, approaching her.

"Whiskers…" she greeted, her cheeks reddening. "About what you saw…"

"You weren't doing what I think you were doing, were you?" he asked, and awaited the sickening confirmation of what he knew to be true.

"Shit," she grumbled, averting her eyes, embarrassed. "What if I was?"

"I'd be surprised." he said, and he meant it. He already was.

"Fine, I confess; I was playing _Pussy Soccer_ to you during class. Big deal..."

"I don't know what to say," he answered honestly, crinkling his nose as he turned his head away dramatically. He cleared his throat and looked back. "Why did you—?"

She was staring at him hard, and her gaze took him off guard.

Harima offered her a bit of a smile, for levity, and he was blushing. The origin of his blush was not of arousal, but of the natural embarrassment of such a discussion. That seemed to be lost on Eri, as she offered him a shrug and a lewd smile in return, advancing on him.

Delicate hands slapped onto his chest and pushed him, with surprising force, into the direction of the girl's washroom.

"What is this?" Harima asked in surprise, but seemed to be ignored.

She pushed him insistently, her face a mask of what appeared to be embarrassed determination as she shoved at his chest with both hands, ushering him into the ladies room.

The restroom was completely empty, and it smelled different—like some odd perfume. Harima was used to the men's restroom, which always-always had a peculiar stench to it. He found it strangely pleasant, but had no time to consider it, as he was currently being forced into a potential situation that he did not want to be in.

Kenji didn't want this. He was stuttering, his head on a swivel, seeking some avenue of escape. He tried to extract himself, but wanted to avoid hurting the rich girl, and her grip was simply too strong and aggressive.

Eri gave him a final push, into a stall, where he plopped down on the seat. In an instant, the door was closed in front of him and Eri was sitting on his lap, facing him, forcing him closer and passionately grinding into him.

She whispered something in his ear, but Harima was far too panicked to understand it. Her weight was such that he couldn't get his legs under him to stand. With sudden intensity and aggressive passion, Eri began to kiss him, and he moaned beneath the kiss—not of passion, as Eri thought, but of confusion and dismay.

Eri's hand found the crotch of Harima's trousers, and Harima gave a jerking squirm in response. Tap-tapping his feet on the tiled floor, he continued to fidget around, and the misunderstanding Eri thought that her supposed lover was trying to maneuver to unbuckle and remove his jeans.

As she leaned back and took hold of his belt in both hands, they heard the door of the bathroom open and the light patter of feet as someone entered.

Harima grew pale as they heard the delighted humming of Tsukamoto Tenma.

* * *

><p>Humming cheerfully, Tenma walked into the bathroom, and was followed suit by Mikoto.<p>

"You're alright, aren't you, Tenma?" asked Mikoto.

"Oh, of course I am! Why'd you ask?"

"It's nothing…" Mikoto said, laughing and waving her hands dismissively at Tenma. "It's just… you're not usually this happy unless Karasuma is here." she shrugged.

"Oh yeah," muttered Tenma, and she offered a weak, helpless grin. It amazed her how much she didn't mind Karasuma's absence as much as she did previously. She guessed that the nightly dreams she'd been having about Harima had affected her to that degree.

Mikoto smiled and crossed her arms over her considerable bust, sensing that she struck a nerve with her observation. "Is there someone else? Other than Karasuma, I mean…"

"No," Tenma was quick to reply. "…Not exactly…"

"_Not exactly_?" Mikoto echoed, genuinely intrigued. "What does that mean?" She narrowed her eyes and looked at Tsukamoto, grinning slyly. Could Tenma have really found someone else she liked?

Mikoto's grin faded when she noted that Tenma wasn't quite all smiles. "What?" she asked seriously. "I mean, you don't _have_ to tell me."

Tenma thought about it. She had promised herself that she would sort it out, and, in looking at her friend, she knew that she couldn't keep her feelings bottled up like this, and Mikoto was trustworthy enough to share with.

"I'm confused, Miko." Tenma said finally, sincerely.

"About what?"

Tenma hesitated; her cheeks felt hot—really hot—and were red with embarrassment. She swallowed hard.

"The truth is," she began slowly, considering the implications of this confession. "I've been having these weird dreams lately…"

Mikoto stared at the elder Tsukamoto, coaxing her to further explanation, as she remained quiet for a few moments.

"…about Harima." finished Tenma.

Mikoto's eyes couldn't have gotten any wider without falling out of their sockets. She stood there staring for a few long heartbeats, but her seriousness couldn't hold, and a tight smirk creased her lips, which gradually developed into a snicker.

"So you're thinking about Harima." Mikoto dissected. "…In a romantic way, right?"

"I'm confused. He's a sweet guy, and he's funny and charming…" Tenma said, nodding. "But the way I feel…"

"Conflicted," said Mikoto, nodding.

"What do they mean? The dreams?"

"Do you love him?"

"I don't know…" she gave a squeal of frustration.

* * *

><p>Harima's feet were planted firmly up on the door of the stall, well-hidden from view of the girls outside of the stall. Eri had climbed up atop him and the two were essentially performing a silent balancing act together to avoid detection.<p>

"I could…" the two heard Tenma admit from outside. "I could see that. Like I said, he's a real sweet guy…"

Harima's mouth was agape, unbridled amazement was evident on his features. He couldn't take it anymore—now that he knew that she was definitely into him, he had to let his feelings be known.

"Tenma," he said loudly, from behind the stall. "I've got something to say," He stood up and pushed the door open, his belt buckle undone and his pants careening on his hips.

Mikoto and Tenma stared at the spectacle, both their cheeks red.

"What are you…?" Mikoto started to ask, but she saw a second form emerge from the stall. Her mouth hung slack and her words drifted into nothing as the implications set in.

"Oh," said Harima, looking back at the disgraced Eri, and the slight shift proved to be the straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak, and his jeans slid down to his ankles.

Tenma's eyes were red with tears, and she backed off a step. "You are…the biggest…_fucking_…monkey…" she whispered, shaking her head.

"_I don't believe it_!" screamed Tenma, and she stomped away and pushed past the bathroom door.

"Wait!" cried Harima, looking rather ridiculous with his trousers crumpled at the tops of his shoes. He shot down into a crouch and stood back up again, pulling his pants around his waist and tightening his belt up again. He broke into a run out the door, following his beloved.

Harima disappeared outside the restroom, and Mikoto and Eri exchanged stares.


	5. Get Some

**CHAPTER 4**

**Get Some**

"Alright, attention everybody!" cried out a girl's voice, rising above the steady chatter in the crowded room. "Does everyone have a glass?"

She was of moderate height, standing hands on hips and grinning, looking over the crowd of many faces. Her hair was long and flowing—a shiny brown in color—and she had ample bangs that rested prettily on her forehead. Megumi was dressed in her school uniform, as was most everyone else in Al Cado—the building she and the class representatives had rented out for the night. Pretty much everyone she had invited was in attendance, she noted, pleased. Nearly all of the students in class 2-C, among a handful of select others.

There were a few nods, and some raised their glasses, expressing their accord, communicating the point that it was safe to proceed.

"Okay! Let's hear it for the birthday girl!" cried Megumi Sagano, animatedly thrusting her glass of sparkling juice skyward.

"Cheers!" the guests cried out in unison, clinking their glasses together.

"Thanks a lot, everybody!" shouted Tenma gleefully, punching a celebratory fist into the air.

The initial light ambient chatter had grown into a loud babble of voices, and the generic party music playing on the small boom-box was meager indeed in comparison to the noise of the people mingling in the Al Cado building.

"All right listen up, you guys! Today Tenma gets to be queen all day!" Megumi cried. "So give us your orders, your majesty!"

"Oh really?" asked Tenma, her eyes glistening with a renewed driving force. "First up is Mikoto!"

Mikoto looked at her friend. She was surprised that Tenma had still wanted to throw the party, given the episode in the bathroom earlier that day. She wouldn't have cared if she wanted to call it off, or at least postpone it.

She came to understand that Tenma had grown an interest in Harima—had perhaps come to fall in love with him somewhat—and Harima's actions with Sawichka had upset her deeply. When Tenma reappeared to consult with her about the party, she acted as if that whole thing hadn't even occurred. Perhaps Tenma had decided to pretend that she had never had feelings for Harima in the first place. In fact, she dodged any conversation in concerns to the incident...

Tenma grinned and began to unbutton her tan-colored uniform top. "Miko, play me some funky music!" she cried with a twinkle in her eye. She turned about to address the whole of the gathering. "Just don't get in my way!"

Mikoto obeyed, and rushed over to the boom-box. She did a quick scan of the music selection provided, and she produced a suitable music CD. The young marital artist popped the disk into the player.

By the time_ DJ Got Us Falling In Love Again_ by _Usher (Featuring Pitbull)_ blasted on, Tenma had put her top on the back of her chair and was now clad in her white shirt (which was beneath the heavier material). In instant response to the loud music, she went to work straight away, her arms spinning circles in front of her as she hopped about. Her eyes were closed as she jumped around, seeming to be in contemplation of what dance routine she wished to perform.

Her eyes popped open, and she spun around, launching fully into dance. Tsukamoto bent down low, and then sprung back up with a pelvic thrust. She twirled around, which was followed by punching her right arm out to her left, and as she retracted that arm, her right fist shot upward.

She let out a series of whoops and then continued her dance. Tenma then flipped her hand back in forth, that motion inviting guests to join her in dance. After a few moments of trepidation from the surrounding guests, the brunt of the company shrugged and waded into the just-forming mass of dancing bodies.

* * *

><p>"Ugh," moaned Itoko, flipping her voluminous dark blue hair back with a jerk of her head. "You are the epitome of failure, Kenji. I am truly surprised by how absolutely doomed to failure you are when it comes to girls…"<p>

"I should just kill myself," muttered Harima, collapsed into a pathetic sitting position, held fast only by his heavy lean on the wall. "Then everybody would be happy…"

Harima felt like human garbage, and he'd been whining and crying all day. He had escaped Eri's sexually-charged clutches after hearing Tenma confessing that she may have feelings for him, but he appeared to be consensually sucking face with Eri in the bathroom stall. She had retreated, outraged, and Harima had pursued her through the door, but never caught up to her. Following an emotionally trying chase, he eventually lost her trail and gave up on his search. It was now dark outside, and Harima hadn't quite let up his rueful howling.

"God, you're a drama queen," Itoko remarked, shaking her head disgustedly at her cousin. "It can't be that bad."

"You don't even know…" said Harima, his voice hardly a whisper, so despaired was he.

"Just tell me what happened and you'll see that it's not as bad as it seems."

Harima shrugged, knowing that there was no getting around it. He told her everything, in explicit detail. He told her about Eri masturbating during class, drawing an incredulous "During class, really?" from Itoko. He told her about how he was nearly raped in the ladies room and how that led to the most heartbreaking misunderstanding to date.

"So do you understand now?" asked Harima indignantly, and then hung his head dejectedly.

Itoko stood there, digesting the information. "_During_ class?" she repeated, still unable to wrap her head around that concept.

Kenji just made a resigned grunting sound, shaking his head.

"This is really something, I'll admit." acknowledged Itoko seriously. "But in the end, there's only one way I can think of to repair the damage that was done there."

"Oh really? Tell me _all_ about it," remarked Harima sarcastically.

"Talk to her, damn it! How fucking hard is that?" she shouted at him, unappreciative of her cousin's tone.

"That's impossible," Harima insisted, shaking his head resignedly. "She hates me—there's no way she'd ever listen to me, even if I tried to talk to her…!"

"She said she might have fallen in love with you, right?" Itoko asked.

"You don't have to rub it in," grumbled Harima.

"If that's true, then when she saw you and that other girl in the stall together, her heart was broken. She didn't want to believe that you were that kind of guy." Itoko explained. "And you're definitely not."

Harima looked at her, and he thought the notion over. It made sense.

"So," continued Itoko. "If you talk to her and tell her that it was a misunderstanding, she _will_ forgive you." she said, and then she smirked."And who knows? The two of you might just hit it off…"

"You're right…" said Harima, rubbing his chin. "I think you're on to something,"

"Trust me, Kenji."

* * *

><p>She shifted around in the cushion of the seat, her hands tapping on the tabletop as she did so. Her shiny red eyes scanned the vicinity as she continuously changed her position in her seat.<p>

Tsukamoto Yakumo couldn't see Harima anywhere, and she frowned, willing her eyes to look harder, and she put her head on a more feverish swivel, hoping that she could find a clue as to the whereabouts of Kenji.

He was invited, after all.

After minutes of time wasted searching, her search was interrupted.

"Looking for something?" asked a girl with strawberry blonde hair, placing a hand on Yakumo's shoulder.

Sarah Adiemus's blonde hair was tied up in a fashionable bun on the top of her head. She was Tsukamoto's best friend, and was under vows of celibacy, as she was a young nun at a local church.

"Oh," said Yakumo, and she sunk back into her chair, facing her friend. "Yes, it looks like some people didn't make it," she explained.

"Yeah, Harima, Sawichka, and Karasuma," said Sarah, nodding. "Who knows where they are? I guess that had something else to do tonight," She shrugged.

"Maybe," agreed Yakumo, looking away.

"You were looking for Harima, weren't you?" Sarah asked slyly, drawing a deep blush from Tsukamoto.

Yakumo shot a defensive look at her friend, but didn't deny it, and that was as telling in the eyes of the perceptive Sarah Adiemus as if Yakumo had told her flat out.

Sarah grinned, and Yakumo only blushed even more furiously.

Tsukamoto clasped her knees with her hands and sunk down into her chair further. She then turned her thoughts to Harima's absence. Sawichka was also absent. Why would Eri miss Tenma's party?

She considered her two classmates. Yakumo suspected that Eri was in love with Harima, if not actively seeking to seduce him. But their absences… could it be more than coincidence?

Had Eri gone to Harima and confessed to him? Could it be possible that Kenji had responded positively to her confession and were now an item, like was rumored to be true previously?

The theories and irrational probabilities swirled in Yakumo's thoughts and she shook her head, as if trying to physically swat the thoughts away like swarming insects.

It couldn't be.

* * *

><p>Eri Sawichka had been cooped up in her room for hours, simply lying in her bed, staring dreamily at the intricate design of her bedroom's ceiling.<p>

She turned to her side lazily, twirling her hair with one finger, smiling thoughtfully. She had let Harima know how she felt about him… In a way, at least... Perhaps she came on too strong, what with the assertive sexual approach she took…

Harima was just overwhelmed, that's all…

Sawichka felt guilty somewhat, though. She'd heard that Tenma had gone and developed feelings for Harima, too. …But Eri had taken the initiative, so _too late_!

"I'd bet he's thinking of me right now," Eri said aloud, and she allowed herself a private giggle of happiness.

She sat up suddenly, and she decided to make sure.

* * *

><p>"God, this is some party!" shouted Imadori over the roar of the dance music as he stumbled into the engrossed Haruki Hanai.<p>

Imadori was well-known for his perverse nature, and his undying love for the female anatomy. He had literally written a song entitled: _It's Got to Be a D Cup_. Imadori's short blonde hair was matted down with sweat, for he had been one of the first to start dancing along with Tenma.

"Oh," the class representative acknowledged, not looking at Imadori, for he had been staring at Yakumo for the past half hour. "Yeah, it's the end of the term! Everyone was ready to let their collective hair down, I guess!"

"Yeah," laughed Imadori. "That reminds me, though…!" he shouted, leaning obnoxiously toward Hanai. "Where the _fuck's_ Karasuma been lately—I don't even think he showed up for the finals!" and he let out a wheezing cackle, turning his head to add to the effect. "I bet you _money_ that he doesn't pass!" he added, turning back to the martial artist.

"You make a good point," Hanai congratulated, finally turning to Imadori. "As the official class representative, I was also worried about Karasuma. I talked to Mr. Tani about it—apparently he goes to America every month." He set his glass down on the table he was standing near to. "Go figure,"

"America? The _fuck_!"

"I know, right?"

"Why, though, man?"

"Mr. Tani never really asked him why—but it turns out that Karasuma makes up for his time missed with extra lessons later." He shrugged.

Imadori didn't say anything for a few seconds, taking the information into account. "Maybe his trips to America might have something to do with that transfer he was talking about?" he yelled.

"Maybe; it's his business though…!"

"The real question however, is: _who gives a fuck_?"

"I hear that," agreed Hanai heartily, and Imadori clasped his hands on the young man's shoulders. The two then started off, swaggering away, and some others followed suit, similarly clasping their hands on each other's shoulders to form a line of dancing figures.

* * *

><p>Kenji Harima was deep in concentration, hard at work devising a way to repair the damage that was done at school as a result of Eri trying to force him into a sex act in the girl's bathroom.<p>

Tenma might still be in love with him, albeit heartbroken. Harima knew that he had to act, and fast, for that could change if she Karasuma got too close—whenever he decides to show up, that is. What he needed was a plan—that was obvious.

He couldn't just walk up to Tenma randomly to address that incident. No, it required finesse…and location. Romance.

Suddenly, the theme to _Three for the Kill_ sounded from inside his pocket. Pulling it free, he flipped it open and irritably snapped it up to his ear.

"What?" he asked gruffly.

"_Hey, Harima_!" Eri's disembodied voice called out to him from the phone's speaker.

"I don't know what you're so happy about," growled Harima.

"_I can see from the sound of your voice that you're still overwhelmed by the whole thing. It's okay, though. I'm patient._"

"Overwhelmed is kind of an understatement…" Harima sighed, shaking his head.

"_Tenma and Mikoto know now; they'll eventually get over it._" Eri continued, and Kenji flinched at the mention of his love interest, and the insinuation that the rich girl's statement presented. "_But when are we going to make this whole going-out thing official_?"

Harima remained silent for a few moments, digesting the information. Rich girl actually thought that they had fallen in love or something?

"What?" he asked crossly. "Are you serious?" Harima's arms were trembling with swelling anger as he clutched his phone.

"_Of course I am_," Eri asserted calmly, and she gave a relaxed giggle. "_So when_?"

"Never, God damn it!" Harima shouted in frustration.

Eri sounded taken aback by Kenji's outburst. "_But_," she stammered. "_I thought_…!"

"I was surprised as _Hell_ that you were playing around with your cooch at me during class," he started, his voice gradually increasing in volume and seriousness. "But that doesn't mean that I want a relationship with you!"

Eri was quiet, thinking, Harima guessed. "_So… you're saying you don't love me_?" she asked.

"Yes!"

"_Not even a little_…?"

"_No_—_God_!" Harima barked wrathfully. "No, God, please no! No—NO! _NOO_!"

Eri was silent, aside from the quiet sniffling that Harima heard from the other line after a few moments of listening. "_I'm sorry_," she said breathlessly. "_I just thought…_"

"God damn it!" Harima growled, and then snapped the mobile shut.

* * *

><p>They were walking further into the quieter part of the building, and she turned suddenly to face Megumi. Her big, roundish glasses that reflected the dimmed lights in the room emphasized and brightened her eyes.<p>

"Hey Megumi," Tsumugi Yuukiremarked, and the individual she was speaking to twirled around to regard her. "It might not be my business, but I've been wondering… What the Hell do you think Tenma sees in that Karasuma guy? I mean, I guess he's _fuckable_, but he's just so _weird_,"

Megumi thought about it, the question taking her by surprise. "I'm sure that Karasuma's got some hidden 'good parts' that only Tenma knows about," she offered. But then she sighed as she looked in Tenma's direction. "Too bad that Karasuma isn't here—she's acting a little peculiar. I guess she's getting pretty lonesome, since the guy she loves isn't here."

"Hmm, you're right—she's been acting strange, you got that right," the girl with the glasses agreed, nodding.

"It's not just that," a voice from behind them declared. Megumi and Tsumugi whirled around to view the speaker.

Suou was standing there, holding a glass of sparkling juice. "It's gotten a little complicated," she explained.

"What's that mean?" asked Megumi excitably, and she padded quickly into whispering-distance of Mikoto. Tsumugi joined them an instant later, hardly containing her curiosity.

"Okay now," said Mikoto, patting her hands in the air, signaling that she wanted to keep things on the down-low. "You can't tell anyone about this,"

The two girls nodded slowly.

Mikoto's eyes darted from side-to-side to make sure that the coast was clear. Once she was sure that she was secure, she said "You didn't hear it from me, but Tenma kinda has a thing for Harima,"

"What?" the two whispered in unison, and then began to chatter excitedly amongst themselves, drawing a "Shh!" from Suou.

"And get this," Mikoto continued. She sipped on her glass, and the girls leaned closer from the suspense. "This afternoon, right after finals, Harima and Eri came out from one of the girl's bathroom stalls together—and both me and Tenma saw them!"

"Get outta town!" gasped Megumi, and Tsumugi cupped a hand over her mouth in astonishment. "No _way_!"

"It's all true!" Mikoto insisted, and put her index finger to her lips. "But keep quiet about this, all right?"

"Of course," said Megumi, nodding fervently.

"Poor girl…" Tsumugi sighed, looking to Tsukamoto, who was dancing to the music on the farther side of the building. "And that Harima," she added. "Isn't he seeing her younger sister?"

"Guess not," said Mikoto. "Look, I'm about as confused about it as you guys are, but we're talking about Tenma's feelings. She's really confused about the whole thing."

"Yeah," conceded Megumi, and the three lingered on for a while, peering at Tenma, whose facade was not lost on her friend's probing eyes.

* * *

><p>His surprise and irritation was clear when he heard the ringtone from inside his pocket, and Harima seized his mobile and snapped it open and brought it up to his ear.<p>

"What do you want?" he growled too-swiftly, making his question sound more like a single inquiring word.

"_Hello, Tizawa_?" asked the editor—Harima's singular source of employment—seeming to ignore Kenji's fractious tone. "_We desperately need an assistant artist right away. Are you free tonight_?"

"Right now-right now?" asked Harima, seeming less than excited.

"_Yeah, we have an artist who doesn't usually use an assistant, and we're kind of in a tight spot here_," Harima's employer explained quickly.

"Oh," said Harima. "Yeah, okay—Hell, I've got nothing else to do,"

"_Terrific; I'll be waiting for you at the office_," said the editor, and the call was disengaged.

Harima shook his head. "God damn," he said to himself, and without any goodbye to his cousin, he promptly donned his jacket and left the apartment.

It looked like he had work to do.

**A/N: **Come on. Bring on the comments; I'm beginning to feel a little neglected. I really can't express how much I love to see feedback from my adoring fans! Even if you don't have anything nice to say! If you've got some criticism, just lay it on me! I surely do appreciate it!


	6. Creatures Of The Night

**Chapter 5**

**Creatures Of The Night**

Yakumo entered first, lightly padding inside the house Tsukamoto. Her shoes clomping loudly on the wooden floor, Tenma followed suit.

Tenma's party had been a rousing success, and the long night of partying had reached its inevitable conclusion. The older Tsukamoto rubbed a fist across her eye and yawned.

"I'm going to bed," Tenma announced, turning for the stairs.

"Okay, sis," Yakumo replied, facing her sister. "Good night,"

"Nighty-night…" Tenma called back, but her voice trailed off as she reached the staircase that led to her room.

She yawned again as she tiredly tromped up the flight of steps. She had noticed that Eri hadn't come to the party, and neither did Harima. That notion made her stop in her tracks.

It had really confused and outraged her, that whole bathroom incident. Harima, that man that she had spent nights pleasantly dreaming about, had always seemed like a generous, kind, and a truly lovable person. And Eri, who had been her friend for a long time, by going with Harima in the stall, made Tenma feel betrayed somewhat.

The image of Harima, caught red-handed with his pants crumbled about his feet flashed in her thoughts, and Tenma quickly shook the image away. With another of her too-often sighs, she resumed her trek upstairs.

What would Yakumo think if she found out about Harima's monkey business?

With a shake of her head, Tenma shuffled into her room and immediately stripped down and donned her pajamas. Once she had her pink night dressing on and fastened, she approached her bed and promptly collapsed into it.

Tenma decided to dismiss the thoughts that so troubled her as she pulled her covers up over her body. With a final thought about Karasuma, imagining his manly arms wrapping her in a comforting hug, she allowed the warm, inviting darkness to overtake her, and soon she was sound asleep.

* * *

><p>Harima was greeted by the editor, who rushed up to him and hastily shook his hand.<p>

"You're here! Great!" he said, and he hurriedly led Kenji into the complex and through the door to meet the artist that was expecting him.

Harima didn't hide his surprise when he laid his eyes on the artist he was to assist. That detached expression, that black bowl-cut!

"Oh, I've been expecting you, Harima," the artist at the small Japanese-styled table remarked, turning to look at Kenji.

"Well, I'll leave you guys to it. Work him as hard as you want, Nijou," the editor laughed, and he retreated, shutting the door behind him, leaving Harima and his enemy alone.

"Kuh-kuh-Karasuma!" Harima stuttered, flabbergasted. "You—you…!" He wanted to sprint toward the jackass and throttle him, but he stopped himself before he began, his sense of duty dismissing any anger he held for his fellow classmate (and now his boss, by all appearances). "I'm sorry, Mr. Nijou—I'm here to assist you, so put me to work…"

* * *

><p>"Why didn't Eri or Harima come?" whispered Yakumo, saying it aloud to herself in the hopes that it would make things clearer. She sighed, and then made her way to the main room, where her cat was resting comfortably in the middle of the floor, curled into a cozy-looking ball of fur. Iori's black fur distorted as the cat's chest heaved with its light sleeping breaths.<p>

As Yakumo walked in, Iori rose to attention and lifted her head to look in the human's direction, revealing the scar on her forehead. Yakumo reached out to the animal and stroked its fur, bending down to a knee.

"Could it really be that Harima and Eri have gone and…" she began to ask the cat, but Iori only looked at her curiously.

Tsukamoto sighed and let out a self-deprecating chuckle, wondering why she had started to seek advice from the animal. Still chuckling, she rose and turned around, but froze at an unexpected sight.

There was a little girl standing there.

* * *

><p>He was sitting across from Oji Karasuma, who was staring impassively down at his manga-in-progress's layout, and he scratched his pen on the paper, drawing in the appropriate additions needed for his comic's vision to come to fruition.<p>

_This is too weird_, Harima thought as he similarly inked in Karasuma's artwork. _Here I am with a professional gig, just like I wanted, and I'm working for Jo Nijou of all people!_

Once upon a time, Kenji had been a big fan of Jo Nijou's mangas; it had actually inspired him to start drawing comics himself. That all changed, however, when he had learned the truth of his identity during his initial meeting with his editor. After discovering that his idol artist was the man he knew Tenma was infatuated with, he promptly destroyed his work and started anew.

Harima, pen in hand, found himself studying the dialogue in Karasuma's comic, and what he read gave him pause. _This story…_ thought Harima, his thoughts turning to dread. _It's a love comedy…? I remember his comic being a period drama…! Why would he change it…?_

Harima knew the answer. Karasuma was using his comic to reveal his feelings about Tenma! _That sneaky bastard!_ Harima's thoughts screamed at him. He had to stop him—whatever the cost.

Kenji took time to regard Oji. Karasuma was sustaining a private smile.

"Karasuma—I mean Mr. Nijou," Harima started, and Oji looked at him inquiringly. "Are you feeling okay?"

The question seemed to take Karasuma by surprise, and he took his time before replying. "I'm fine," he said, and his disinterested countenance returned as he turned his attention back to the layouts.

"It's just that I've never really seen you at work like this," Harima began again, and Karasuma rose up with a clearly annoyed sigh and looked to him again. "You seem different,"

"If you don't mind, I have work to do," Karasuma stated coldly.

A crushing rage took hold of Harima then—he wanted to leap over the table and strangle the man right then and there but he shook his head violently, urging himself to keep calm. Harima nodded, his mouth tight.

He then looked to Karasuma, considering his absence for the past two weeks. He had known that Karasuma being gone had affected Tenma, and the idea of Tenma's feelings about Karsuma had suddenly struck up a new fury into Kenji's heart.

"Karasuma," said Harima gruffly.

Oji Karasuma looked back up at him, glaring inquiringly, his low gaze and curiously raised brow showed Harima in no uncertain terms that his patience was thinning.

If Harima was the least bit intimidated, he certainly didn't show it, his mask of open contempt more than matched Karasuma's intensity. He leaned over the table to bring his threatening gaze closer to Oji, and his accusing gaze did not relent.

Oji Karasuma, undaunted, stared back coldly, awaiting the explanation of whatever it was that Harima seemed so livid about.

"Answer me this," Harima finally demanded, holding his stare. "Where do you keep going every month?"

Karasuma rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh, then proceeded to point to a filing cabinet on the far wall, on which rested a small-scale Statue of Liberty.

Harima regarded it with incredulity. "America?"

Karasuma nodded at Harima with mock stupidity. His face then turned contemptuous, showing that he was growing weary with the exchange.

"Why?" asked Kenji, his hostile, accusing tone returning.

"Why, if I might ask, is this so important for you to understand?"

Harima didn't have a good answer. "You're hiding something," he accused, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I might be," Karasuma let on vaguely, and he bent down, returning to face his work.

Harima tightened his jaw, staring irately at the teenaged manga artist. His motive during the small conversation was to test Karasuma through discussion and see him—to actually see him. And he _had_ seen him; and he didn't like what he saw.

Looking at the irritable artist, Harima considered his pressing question. _What does Tenma see in him?_ he asked himself constantly. Karasuma, unfailingly at school, was quiet and unassuming—he pretty much kept to himself, just staring out the window. Now though, when he was more animated, Karasuma seemed only to be an ass, impatient and rude.

Kenji Harima, huffing angrily, grudgingly went back to work, offering no further arguments. For the rest of the session, they worked in silence.

* * *

><p>She was floating just above the floor, her feet less than an inch above, but clearly suspended in mid-air. A long white gown billowed around her girlish form, which was glowing a soft green color. Much like her gown, her stark black hair danced slowly in the air, as if she were submerged underwater. Her large plain black eyes stared piercingly at the young woman's surprised expression.<p>

Tsukamoto Yakumo didn't know what to think or do, she just stood there, staring aghast at the ghostly figure.

"_You love him_," the apparition stated plainly.

Yakumo's eyes widened, and she took a step back. "What?" she managed to blurt. "What are you talking about?"

"_Harima_," the ghost explained simply. "_You're in love with him_,"

Yakumo wanted to protest, but couldn't find her voice to do so.

"_You can't lie to me_," added the shade. "_I know your true feelings_,"

"I guess I do love him," admitted the youngest Tsukamoto, shrugging.

"_And what of Sawichka_?" prompted the ghost.

Yakumo sensed where the ghost was getting at, and blanched. That movement was enough to convince the ghost.

"_Your suspicions are correct, Tsukamoto_." The ghost informed, and Yakumo's eyes widened even more at this new revelation. "_Sawichka seduced Harima,_"

Yakumo stood there for a few moments and swallowed hard to collect herself. "You're sure?"

"_Yes_," the ghost said, and moved toward Yakumo. It clasped its hands together and added "_and they were smooching up a storm_!" The phantom made exaggerated kissing sounds to add to the odd revelation.

Yakumo's heart sank, and then she watched as the world around her spun and her vision was consumed by blackness.

As quickly as it had initially disappeared, Yakumo's sight returned, and she found herself kneeled before a very confused Iori. Astonished, she quietly stood up and whirled around, surveying the area.

No ghost to be found.

"What...?" whispered Yakumo, confused. She shook her head, considering the exchange between her and the ghost from her dream—was it a dream? Could she trust a ghost for information like that?

She stood up and left the room, conceding that it was time for her to go to bed as well—she had to sleep it off, she believed. She would keep that dream—if it was one, that is—to herself for now, until she could be sure of the information.

Yakumo disappeared up the staircase, and Iori curled back into a ball, returning to her slumber.

* * *

><p>"<em>Karasuma…" Tenma started, shuffling nervously from one foot to the other. Resolute, she steeled herself and stood perfectly straight, balling her hands into determined fists. "I love you…!" she confessed quickly, and she winced at him, afraid of the possibility that Karasuma could perhaps not feel the same way and reject her.<em>

_That was an ever-present risk._

_Karasuma stared hard at Tenma for a few moments, considering her sentiments._

"_Miss Tsukamoto," he started, which elicited an eager sparkle in Tenma's hopeful eyes. "Smell my nuts," he instructed plainly._

_The eldest Tsukamoto visibly blanched and took a step back. "What? Karasuma, what are you talking about?"_

"_Stroke the shaft," he explained calmly, seeming to ignore her reaction. "…and swallow that gravy."_

"_What kind of girl do you take me for?" muttered Tenma, shaking her head incredulously at him._

_Karasuma only stood there, watching her expectantly. After a few seconds, he had the audacity to point lazily in the direction of his genitals._

_That was when her open palm found his face, slapping against it hard, producing a loud smacking sound. Tenma's retribution for Karasuma's words were short-lived, however, as a strong hand grasped her wrist, squeezing it incredibly tight and roughly forcing it back behind her._

_Karasuma's face twisted angrily—showing more fury than she could have imagined possible from his constantly-peaceful demeanor. Through gritted teeth, Karasuma grunted, and with frighteningly painful speed, forced Tenma onto the tiled floor, pinning her down into a defenseless position._

_Incapacitated and tremendously terrified, the young Tsukamoto girl let out a shriek of abject horror in the desperate hope that someone would hear her and come to her rescue. She screamed again—or began to, as Karasuma's free hand's palm slammed into her jaw, cutting short her scream and sending a wave of disorienting pain over her._

_Karasuma's hand slid down to her throat and he gripped her esophagus excruciatingly, putting just enough pressure to allow her limited breath. "Shut your fucking mouth…" growled Karasuma quietly, allowing anger into his usually calm tone. "This could have been easy," he lamented, calm once again, and sighed, not easing his frightening grip in the least. "It still can be," he added, slowly removing his hand from Tenma's throat._

"_All you've got to do is be a good girl and do as I told you," he explained, rising up to a standing position, watching Tenma as she lay there wheezing and crying. He considered her as she didn't make a move to comply. "Well, miss Tsukamoto? Are you ready to cooperate, or does this have to be hard after all?" he asked, unbuckling his belt._

_Tenma slowly rose to her knees, wiping tears from her fair—if now-bruised—face. She could feel Karasuma's palm drop tenderly on the top of her head, gently ruffling her hair._

* * *

><p>Tenma Tsukamoto let out a loud cry of horror as she snapped upright in her bed, kicking the blanket from her feet and twisting it in a crazed outburst of denial and sadness.<p>

"_Nooooo_!" she shouted, her eyes shut tightly.

After a moment of tensely sitting in silence, she dared to study her surroundings. She was in her room, safe in her bed. She sniffled and shuddered as she thought of the context of her latest dream. She had finally told Karasuma that she loved him, only to find that Karasuma was a violently charged rapist.

She let out a small sob at the disturbing notion and grabbed her pillow, bringing it up to her chest, and she hugged it tightly, rocking back and forth on the cushion of her bed.

Her door swung open and there stood Yakumo with a baseball bat in hand, entering cautiously. "Are you okay, sis?" she called into the room in a whisper, looking at her older sister, hugging her pillow like a frightened child.

"Bad dream," she admitted somberly and shook her head. She then let out a chuckle, nearly laughing aloud at how absurd she must have looked.

"Oh, good," sighed Yakumo, easing her grip on her weapon to let it drop easily down to her side. "I thought someone was trying to break in or something," She smiled at her older sister, a reassuring grin that immediately warmed Tenma's heart and instilled a sense of calm and safety.

The elder Tsukamoto felt better with the secure feeling of her sister's presence and eased down onto her back again, letting another sigh escape her. "Sorry I woke you up," she apologized.

"It's okay, sis." Yakumo whispered, and then backed into the hall again. "Good night, Tenma."

"Good night," Tenma called back, and her words were punctuated by the _thunk_ of the door as it closed. The teenage girl hurriedly sat up again and seized her blanket in both hands and lay back down, simultaneously covering herself with the sheet of thick material.

Tsukamoto Tenma only stared up at the ceiling as she lay there, considering that delusional episode that caused her to make such a commotion. Her dreams of Harima had subsided, replaced now with that horrible perception of the boy she loved—the _only_ one she would love, she vowed.

In light of things, she thought about Harima and how he dared to show his evil pretender face during a private conversation about him, and inside the girl's bathroom no less! Worse, he was wearing his pants around his ankles and canoodling around with her so-called friend, Eri Sawichka. Thinking of it, she was resolved that her dreams were pure, unadulterated falsities. Harima was the opposite of what her dreams told her he was, and the same went for Karasuma.

She knew it in her heart. She should have known it from the beginning.

Tenma closed her eyes, nodding her acceptance of her belief. She found no comfort in her newly-found facts, however, and she tossed and turned throughout the night, troubled by memories of past dreams—dreams of love—dreams that now taunted her like some mocking, wretched demon.

Dreams that she now desperately wished she could forget.

* * *

><p>Carefully, he budged the window wider open. Slowly, he reminded himself, knowing well that he was treading a fine line with this newest endeavor.<p>

He nodded grimly once it was open wide enough for him to slip through. He crawled inside—legs first—taking great care to keep his entrance as silent as possible.

Once inside, Haruki Hanai crept silently through the House Tsukamoto.

Creeping as silently as he could manage, he stepped into the main room, where a kotatsu stood in the center of the room and a TV set rested quietly upon a cabinet a few feet away.

He entered and noticed a black cat sleeping on the floor. He froze, understanding the sensitive perception of the feline. One false move and it would rouse.

While in some cases such an occurrence would have little repercussion, Hanai had learned that cats were largely territorial creatures, and most would hiss and screech to try to fend him off if they sensed that he was intruding. If that happened, it would almost certainly alert the sleeping Tsukamotos.

He didn't want to take any chances.

Hanai, using techniques he learned from the dojo to silence his footfalls, slowly stalked around the cat to avoid awakening it. He crept, knees poking up high with each step, with his arms stuck weirdly out to his sides. He was moving on the balls of his feet, sneaking around, keeping a generous distance from the animal. His eyes never left the cat, counting each contented breath the cat took.

Finally, he made it out of the room.

The cat never stirred.

Haruki Hanai sidled through the shallow hall and stepped foot on the staircase. Without a whisper of sound, he ascended the flight of stairs and noted two doors on the second floor's hall.

He had to find her. Hanai came up to the first door and turned the knob, pulling it open a crack. He spied her older sister in a clump of blankets, snoring contentedly and muttering nonsense.

Wrong room.

He pursed his lips and closed the door again slowly to make sure that the sound of the shutting _click_ was miniscule. He sidestepped to make his way to the other door. It was Yakumo's room for sure, he knew with all certainty. He cracked the door open to see inside.

There she was, lying quietly on her side in a fashion that Hanai could only describe as serene. Hanai's heart skipped a few beats as he watched her lie there, her rhythmic breathing causing her chest to rise and fall peacefully. Hanai could scarcely contain himself, and his breath came in controlled gasps.

He opened the door just enough for him to squeeze through, and he entered the room slowly, his wide eyes never leaving the tender sleeping form.

Hanai found himself standing at the edge of her bed, hovering over her prone form breathlessly. He swallowed hard and he gently extracted her hand from beneath her pillow.

Hanai came down to his knees, taking Tsukamoto's hand in his own. He then slumped down to a sitting position on the floor with his back to the mattress. He clutched the soft, delicate hand in both his hands, stroking it lovingly.

He sat there for a long time, stroking the hand, and often as he bent down to kiss it, he offered a suck on a digit. That went on for some time but eventually he conceded that his time spent was well-invested and that he had overstayed his visit.

Hanai rose to a stand and stroked Yakumo's hair, then bent down to kiss her on the forehead.

He left, slipping unheard and unseen through the darkness.

He closed the window behind him.

* * *

><p>"So," started Yakumo at length as she and Tenma were sitting at the kotatsu for breakfast. "What's Harima been up to lately?"<p>

The question caught her by surprise, and Tenma flashed look of anger, which then dissolved into one of sadness. She opened her mouth to answer, but she considered the question carefully and then looked again at her sister. Yakumo fancied that she had a thing going on with Harima… Could she put Yakumo through that, hearing the news about his sick player ways? How would she take it?

"He's okay," said Tenma feebly through a mouthful of rice. She swallowed and continued "He's been real busy at school—we've all been. Good thing Final Exams are over; it was totally ruining my social life!"

Yakumo nodded, accepting the story, and unexcitedly wedged another lump of soy sauce-sodden rice between her chopsticks and deposited it into her mouth. "Oh, good,"

Tenma felt guilty for lying to her beloved sister like she did, and so she lowered her gaze. It had to be done, though. Her little sister deserved to be happy—if only just for a little while longer, until the truth was revealed to her.

Every time Tenma thought about Harima, she became bitterly angry, but was cast into a state of depression immediately afterward. Really, how could Harima have done that? She thought she had known him, had understood in finality that he was a truly good person. Why did he try to pull a fast one like that in the bathroom with Eri?

A wave of panic rolled over Tenma as she remembered that Harima had heard that she was dreaming of him. How could she face him?

She would have to see him again during class today, and Tenma swore that she would avoid him at all costs.


	7. It's All Coming Back To Me Now

**Chapter 6**

**It's All Coming Back To Me Now**

Tsukamoto Tenma was smiling as she sat at her desk. Karasuma was back at last! Finally she could put her priorities in their proper order.

Harima clenched his fist as he glanced to see the bubbly Tenma. He knew exactly what she was smiling about—without a doubt. He slowly twisted around in his desk to view his hated enemy.

Karasuma was grinning, staring straight at Tenma's rump, which was partway concealed by the chair, although the space between the seat and the backrest revealed her bottom magnificently. To make it even more delicious for Oji, Tenma didn't seem to have taken much care in the placement of her skirt around her waist, and her panties were clearly visible.

Karasuma noticed Harima staring him down, and smirked at him. His eyes shifted to Tenma and then flashed back at the delinquent. He then broke into a quick fit of pelvic thrusting, still seated in his desk, and continuously pumped his fist. While his body shook like that, he jerked his head forward and opened his mouth, waggling his tongue.

He was referring to Tenma with that little dance, Harima reasoned. Karasuma was insinuating that he would "tap that".

Harima straightened, flashing a look of pure threatening menace at the skinny douche bag. "You're asking for it," mouthed Kenji bitterly.

In response, Karasuma only gave him a smirk and returned to an idle position, his eyes still wandering about Tenma's backside.

Kenji looked back to Tsukamoto, and she caught sight of him, then straightened in her desk, huffing indignantly and promptly turning from him.

That gesture hit Harima harder than any punch ever could have, and Kenji looked at her, stricken with a grief that had him folding weakly onto his desk in despair.

* * *

><p>Tsukamoto Tenma tried hard to suppress her giddy smile as she pulled the top from her lunch box, Karasuma similarly settling down next to her. Karasuma had come back to her! After two weeks of confusion and torn emotions, Tenma could look at Karasuma and know to whom her heart belonged.<p>

"Karasuma," began Tenma, addressing him in a tone a young housewife might take. "Did you miss my curry?" she asked. Tsukamoto waited politely as Karasuma quietly adjusted himself in his placement of seating.

Tenma had known that Karasuma was a lover of curry, and knew too, that he ate it each day—if he could help it. He was even quite fond of chocolates that contained curry inside.

"Yes," came the anti-climactic response after Tenma's suspenseful waiting.

Tenma couldn't help but feel a little disappointment with his answer—not that she was displeased by Karasuma's admission—for she had grown used to the animated responses of another boy in particular, and was instead displeased by the overall subdued reply.

Suddenly realizing who it was she was subconsciously referring to, Tenma gave a low, inaudible growl and imagined herself pointing the barrel of a firearm to her temple—so frustrated was she by her thoughts of Harima in the presence of the man she loved, and more importantly, in light of the revelation that revealed to her the creature he truly was.

"Miss Tsukamoto," said Karasuma suddenly, turning to face her, drawing Tenma from her contemplative state.

Tenma apologetically turned on him.

"I did miss your curry," he reiterated, and then he looked her in the eyes with an intensity that stole her breath for a few moments. "But not as much as I missed you,"

Karasuma turned back to face his meal again.

Tsukamoto blushed incredibly deeply, her whole face turning a bright red, and she smiled widely. So terribly happy, she could hardly bring the curry to her mouth.

* * *

><p>Eri Sawichka had her face planted firmly on her school desk, in the knowledge that she had surely <em>fucked<em> up majorly. Harima had never been in love with her! She took extreme relief in the fact that she had kept herself hidden from Harima's eyes.

She certainly couldn't face him after that whole episode.

Eri felt a nudge on her shoulder, and in response, she looked up to view whoever it was that was prodding her so.

Akira was standing over her, and Suou Mikoto, standing just behind the girl in question, greeted her with a "Hey,"

"I heard," Akira explained to the blonde simply.

Sawichka lowered her head again, sighing. "I really botched things this time," She let out a profound sigh.

Akira stared at her unconcerned, and then nodded. "Harima wasn't in the stall of his own volition, was he? You brought him in there, through some irrational notion that he was interested in such an encounter. Why is that?"

To the side, Mikoto shot a surprised look at Takano's back. Akira had always made inferences from situations—and those inferences were, more times than not, accurate and detailed.

"I thought he was into it," Sawichka explained quietly, brushing a long lock of blonde hair from her face. She considered her statement and frowned, knowing that she had erred quite horribly. "I guess I just sort of…jumped the gun."

"There's one way of putting it," replied Akira dryly.

Mikoto stepped in beside Akira. "Eri, you really had Tenma upset," she informed. "Her heart broke when she saw you and Harima,"

Akira eyed Eri intensely, still searching for a clue as to why Sawichka had gone to Harima for an intimate encounter. Takano narrowed her eyes, studying Eri Sawichka, staring deep into her troubled face.

Then she knew something. Harima had played a part, but Eri's reasoning for her attempt at a quick relationship was part of something bigger. She could see it in her eyes.

"Karasuma's back, you know…! That should make Tenma forget about the whole thing," Eri huffed, trying to attain a measure of dignity in the hardly-justifying claim.

"Eri," Mikoto said softly, shaking her head. She let out a disheartened chuckle. "Tenma is your friend," she reminded. "We're your friends," she added without hesitation, indicating Akira with a flick of her palm.

"What do you want me to do?" asked Eri sincerely, turning fiercely on Mikoto. "There's nothing that I can do that can alter the fact…" she said, her voice trailing off in a hard swallow. "…that I tried to seduce Harima (and it turns out that he doesn't even like me)—without knowing that Tenma thought of him that way…!

"And how could I?" continued Eri, snapping with sudden anger. "She's supposed to be in love with Karasuma, right?"

Mikoto nodded, and patted her friends shoulder to calm her. "There's one thing you can do," she said.

Eri looked at Suou, dispirited.

"Apologize," she answered confidently, allowing mirth into her tone. "It's as simple as that,"

"But what happened," Eri started to protest.

"Can't break up our friendship," finished Mikoto, flashing a smile.

That wasn't exactly what Eri was implying, but she nonetheless agreed, nodding her head.

"Just explain to her what happened," Akira chimed in, not letting on that she had broken ground with a revelation about the inner feelings of her rich friend. "Ask her forgiveness, and then we can move on."

Eri sat up straighter in her desk, her resolve solidifying in that moment. Yes, they were friends…

The rich girl's energy dissipated somewhat though, as she considered her personal dilemma.

But for how long?

* * *

><p>"Yakumo!" cried the young man in the squared glasses, running for her. He skidded to a stop at an alarmingly close position, stopping just before the astonished Tsukamoto.<p>

"Hanai," greeted Yakumo shakily, still unused to the wild way in which the class representative addressed her. "Hello,"

"Yakumo, my darling," said Hanai, grabbing her by the shoulders. "How are you feeling—what can I do to make you feel like a princess? Oh, my dear Yakumo!"

"Hanai," Yakumo concernedly said to the young man in the glasses, and he perked up instantly.

"Yes, Yakumo, anything!"

"Please," she said, peeling Hanai's hand off her shoulder. "You mustn't do things like this. It's embarrassing for me,"

Hanai cleared his throat. "Yes," he stammered, taking a couple steps back to offer Yakumo a respectful distance. "Forgive me,"

"Thank you," said Yakumo, and she started past him.

Hanai, however, had different plans, and intercepted her. "Hey, listen," he offered in a calm tone, making Yakumo pause and regard him.

"I was thinking that I should come to your house," he said, then animatedly waved his hands frantically in front of him. "It's nothing like that!—you see, as the Official Class Representative, I think that it's important that I help my fellow schoolmates be successful, so I'm offering to help you clean your house," he explained. "After school,"

"That won't be necessary, Hanai," Yakumo said, looking him in the eye. "I'm actually going to help Harima with something this afternoon. Tenma will be at the house, so if you…"

"Maybe some other time," Hanai interjected lightheartedly, doing well to mask his boiling anger at the mentioning of Harima. "No problem,"

He turned about on his heel and left Yakumo, without a word of goodbye.

* * *

><p>"I'd like to thank you for your hours spent on Mr. Nijou's comic last night," the editor attested, shaking Harima's hand. "The company really appreciates it,"<p>

The editor's expression turned to one of confusion as he regarded the girl behind the man he was referring to. "Hey," he said curiously. "Who's that girl behind you?"

"I'm his assistant, sir," said Yakumo before Harima could explain. "Tsukamoto Yakumo,"

"She usually helps with my layouts, so I brought her along," explained Harima quickly. "That's okay, right?"

"I guess," said the editor, unwilling to argue any points.

A moment slipped past, and the room suddenly trembled from a terribly strong impact. It shook the building's foundation again as the impacts reoccurred, occurring at a steady interval—like footsteps.

A gigantic man—impossibly huge for any human—with slicked hair and a bushy mustache, dressed in a tight black business suit, stepped slowly into the room, creating another shudder from the base of the structure. He stepped in the direction of Harima, Yakumo, and the editor.

As the humongous giant of a man glowered over them, Harima could not suppress his horrified wail.

"Chief," the editor greeted the unfathomably enormous man calmly. "This is Tazawa,"

"Actually, my—my name—!" Harima stuttered, awestricken.

The Chief Editor let out a growl, silencing Harima.

"Nevermind; it's cool…" Harima blubbered, humbled.

"This is the young artist I told you about. He helped Nijou with his comic last night," the editor pointed out, and then turned to Kenji.

"I showed him your material, and he's impressed," the editor informed Harima.

Kenji Harima's meek nod vanished with a sudden incredulous shake of his head as he saw Yakumo approaching the huge man.

"Tell me," Yakumo said softly to the incredibly-sized Chief Editor, ending her advance a few feet from him. "Do you like scaring new comic book artists or is that just part of your job?"

Her question was punctuated by the chorus of gasps, followed by concerned whispers. Some people in the office turned their heads away and hid the scene from their vision with a palm across their eyes.

The Chief Editor, shifting closer to her—causing the room to rumble anew—snorted. "You're the first person I've seen who didn't fall to the ground in terror," he noted, and he extended his index finger out toward her. "It's a pleasure to meet you, miss…"

"Tsukamoto Yakumo," she finished, grasping hold of the digit—which was as long as her arm—and shaking it. "It's a pleasure to meet you too,"

At that, the whole room erupted in sighs of relief.

* * *

><p>The door he had entered the room through was a mere hole cut in the lower right corner of the right door of the astonishingly titanic double-doors that read: <em>Editor-In-Chief's Office.<em>

Inside, massive skeletons of unnamable aquatic creatures hung by thick cords suspended from the ceiling, which likely towered at a few hundred feet. The floor was a beautifully polished marble tile floor, and further inside was a handsomely designed mat, on which rested a giant-sized Japanese-styled table. The walls, adorned with dozens of bookshelves, bore numerous glistening marble pillars and sported large intricate abstract murals.

Kenji Harima sat humbly and respectfully a few feet away from the enormous desk, and the Chief Editor sat on his considerable knees.

"So," stammered Harima, his fright of the towering beast-man evident in his shaky tone. "I understand you know the captain of _The Cry of the Demon_,"

The Editor didn't say a word—only glared down at him.

"Ummm," said Harima, shivering. "Well, I was aboard that ship, and the captain gave me this pen…" he announced sheepishly as he held forth a fishbone pen, a gift from the captain of a fishing boat Harima had signed up to sail on while in search of a new life.

Harima hadn't been accepted well by the crew, and the comics he had drawn while aboard were promptly destroyed by his crewmates. After saving a crewmate from drowning during a storm, Harima gained their respect, and was addressed by the captain, who had been a manga artist himself. Kenji was sent back to shore shortly after, with the pen as a parting gift.

"I want you to draw for my company," the captain said at length. "I'm scheduling you for a comic for next month," he explained.

Harima bent to a low bow from the perch of his respectful kneel. "Thank you," he said reverently.

* * *

><p>She was laid out across the floor, deep in thought. She allowed herself to giggle and rocked from side-to-side as she thought of what Karasuma had said to her.<p>

She replayed it in her mind over and over, her smile widening with every new time she relived the moment. Karasuma had missed her as she had missed him? That notion tickled her to no end.

In an unexpected mental slip, her thoughts shifted to that of the disturbing dream she had of Karasuma the previous night. She knew that the dream could not possibly be prophecy.

Not with the kind of words Oji had shared with her that day.

Tenma nearly jumped out of her skin as her phone rang loudly in her pocket. She sat up and hurriedly brought it up to her ear.

"Hello?" she greeted.

"_Tenma_," a familiar voice hailed in return.

"Oh," muttered the young Tsukamoto. "Eri," Thoughts of her friend and Harima in the bathroom stall came rushing back to her.

"_We have to talk_," Sawichka pronounced.

"Do we?" asked Tenma innocently.

"_It's about Whiskers_,"

"Oh, you don't have to do that. It's okay," lied Tenma, and the words stung her even as she spoke them.

"_You don't understand. I have to make things right_," said Eri seriously.

"Okay," Tenma prompted after a moment.

"_First of all_," Eri began, and she cleared her throat. "_I'm sorry_,"

Tsukamoto shifted about on the floor.

"_It wasn't how it seemed_," the rich girl explained.

Tenma's face screwed up in confusion at the statement. "_What do you mean by that_?" came the doubting reply.

"_I know that you_—…_you know_…—_like_ _whiskers_," Eri continued, and Tenma nearly swooned upon hearing those words.

"I…" was all that Tenma could sputter before Sawichka cut her off.

"_It was all a big misunderstanding_," Eri tried to explain. "_I advanced on Harima and forced him into the bathroom, trying to get him to…_" her voice trailed off, not wanting to go into further detail than that. "_So… don't hate Harima for that. It was my fault_,"

Tenma swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "Don't worry," she said, and then gave a reassuring sigh. "And Eri, there's nothing to forgive. Okay?"

"_Yeah_," Eri's tone became very soft. After a long moment of silence, she added "_So… I'll talk to you again later_,"

"Yeah…!" agreed Tenma offhandedly, and she heard Eri hang up.

Tsukamoto Tenma clapped her phone shut and rose to a stand, breathing deliberately.

Tenma thought long and hard about it, digesting the information quietly. For all this time, she had hated Harima for the perverted creep she thought he was. But the explicit truth was now revealed to her. Harima had been ushered into the bathroom against his will by Eri.

She approached her closed window and leaned in the sill. The glass pane was fogged from the cold air outside and she slid her fingers across the glass to reveal the outside more clearly. The window pane was cold to the touch, and she listened to the wind's muffled howl.

"And just when I'd finished crying," she lamented, shaking her head and chuckling at her foolishness. The young Tsukamoto thought of the days she had spent with Harima, and the time spent was a truly valuable thing to her, she realized. "And I'd banished every memory you and I had ever made."

She recalled one of her dreams in which Harima had touched her shoulder. _When you touch me like this…_ And then she considered a dream in which—embarrassingly—she and Harima had gotten a bit intimate. _And when you hold me like that_…

She shuddered. It was all so hard to believe; it was all coming back to her now.


	8. Betrayal? Or Not? I Forgot

**Chapter 7**

**Betrayal? Or Not? I Forgot...**

"Yakumo!" cried Tenma happily as she made her way to the door. "You're back!" She practically leaped, skipping sidelong into the room.

Tsukamoto Yakumo was there, removing her shoes, and adjacent to her, stood Harima, bent into a respectful bow.

"Sis," said Yakumo calmly. "I told Harima that it would be okay if he stayed here for a few days—just for Winter Break."

After Harima's successful job acquisition, Kenji and Yakumo had walked together to his and Itoko's apartment to find that the door was locked, and on the door was taped a small note which read:

_I'll be out snowboarding _

_for a week. _

_ Take care now._

Harima was quickly consumed with anger once he realized that Itoko had left without any notice, and after Yakumo suggested that he use his key, he said that he didn't have his key with him.

The kind Tsukamoto gingerly asked Harima to stay at her house, and Harima reacted violently at first, his face showing sudden fright, but he immediately smothered it and stood strong. He refused politely, with no explanation, but Yakumo insisted rather hastily.

Having few other choices before him, Harima complied and walked Yakumo home and was now inside her house, then braced himself for the storm as he regarded Tenma standing there, dumbfounded.

Tenma was at a loss for words, looking intently at the man standing there, bent respectfully in her presence. A myriad of emotions assaulted her as she saw looked upon Harima and she wanted to yell at him and apologize at him all at once, but astutely did neither. Harima was here, and he was likely anxious in light of her violent reaction to witness the event—which she now recognized as a grievous misunderstanding.

Tsukamoto Tenma allowed no emotion to show on her face as she nodded and exited the room, immediately heading for the upper floor.

"I think she took it well," remarked Yakumo, dropping her handbag easily to the floor, and Harima couldn't agree more—he knew Yakumo could never know the extent to which he agreed, surpassing her own relief, even, given the events that took place within the last few days.

* * *

><p>She was snuggled deep in her bed, her mind's eye still seeing Harima's face as he stared, unmistakably fearful and expecting rejection. Tossing herself into another position, the confused girl reflected on that expression he wore.<p>

Harima had been scared of the immediate dismissal from her home, correctly guessing (albeit a little late) that she would remain in bad spirits about the event that had come to be known as _The Bathroom Incident_.

Why had she so readily allowed Harima to stay? Tenma couldn't know exactly—she knew that it would give her a chance to talk to Harima about _The Incident_ and properly dismiss it, but that suddenly became more intimidating than she would have expected.

Conceding that she should sleep on the matter, she settled more deeply into the cushion of her bed and shut her eyes.

As the warm inviting haze of sleep invaded her sensibilities, she was greeted by dreams of love that she had all but forgotten the previous day.

* * *

><p>It was with mixed emotions that Harima joined the two sisters at the kotatsu for breakfast the following morning. Kenji was seated on the end of the table, as Yakumo and Tenma Tsukamoto sat across from each other on the longer sides.<p>

On one hand, he was overflowing with happiness, as he was under the same roof—and to make things better, at the same table—with Tenma, the girl of his dreams, and she had been kind enough to let him stay for Winter break. Spending any amount of time with Tenma could warm Harima's heart, and fortunately for him, Winter Break lasted for a week!

On the other hand, though, he was under the impression that Tenma was terribly upset with him, as she had seen him with the rich girl—damn her!—in the bathroom, seeming to be engaged in an act that may have included, but was not limited to, kissing. Tenma had run away, and when he saw her again at school the next day, she shot him only a glance, followed by hurtfully turning away from him.

"Is this enough or do you need a bigger bowl?" asked Yakumo, holding forth a bowl of rice in Harima's direction.

Harima looked at her and offered a weak smile. "Yeah, sure that's fine," he answered, taking the bowl as it was handed over to him. He set the bowl down in front of him, and then his gaze took to the table again, his eyes scanning for an appropriate sauce to saturate his rice with.

"Soy sauce," he muttered. "Soy sauce…"

Tenma picked up a small cylinder with a rounded cap, which was adjacent to a similar cylinder with a pyramidal cap. Promptly handing it to Harima, she said "Here, this one's the soy sauce; the little round-headed guy,"

Harima grasped it tentatively, not daring to breathe. "Thanks,"

"Don't forget," she continued. "If there's anything you need or want, you just ask." she said, and smiled courteously. "Because you're our guest,"

Harima tried hard not to scream out his pleasure. Tenma, by no stretch of the imagination, did not seem angry at him at all! Did that mean that she had forgiven him? Had she come to realize that the whole escapade with Eri was a misunderstanding after all?

A thousand queries swirled in his thoughts, but he thought better than to question his amazing luck at that point. He only sat and enjoyed his breakfast-meal.

* * *

><p>Tenma stood at the kitchen sink, scrubbing yet another glass with a sponge, which oozed suds as she rubbed it across the smooth surface. She hummed to herself as she washed the dishes, more to appear relaxed than actually being such.<p>

She lowered both the glass and the sponge into the sink, into the running water and held it there, her thoughts fixed on the previous night.

Tenma had dreamt about Harima again…

She had shown courteousness and kindness to him that morning, too. More than likely, he was confused, as she knew that he was still hung up on _The Bathroom Incident_.

"Hey," she heard from behind her, and jumped, startled. Half-turning from the sink, she regarded the young man easily approaching her.

"Can I lend a hand?" asked Harima timidly.

"Yeah, sure!" she said, letting a grin cross her face. "Can you take the clean dishes" she indicated the dish drainer. "…and put them in the shelf for me?"

She watched as Harima took a stack of glass plates and carried them to the cabinet a few paces away.

Tsukamoto Tenma gazed at Harima as he walked away, considering the young man's actions. It was a possibility that he was trying to help her do chores to gain her trust, and therefore, her favor once again…

"The one just to your right," said Tenma, guiding Kenji's direction to the correct cabinet. Kenji pulled open the designated cabinet door and started placing the dishes inside.

"In here, right?" he asked, gently stacking each plate on the shelf within the cabinet.

"Yes—perfect!" she said, grinning at him. "Thanks!"

Harima blushed at that.

"Hey, Harima," said Yakumo from the hall, carrying a plastic basket of laundry.

Kenji hurried away to join Yakumo, and Tenma turned back to the sink, her grin disappearing in a veritable instant, replaced with a look of panicked confusion. She was acting so strange in his presence! And so soon after just getting over the _Bathroom Incident_ that, for the couple of days after it occurred, she couldn't remove from her mind.

"Laundry's up next? Don't worry, I'll do it," offered Harima.

"No… It's nice of you to offer, but…" Yakumo protested meekly.

"At least let me help you; it's the least I can do to thank you for letting me stay here," Harima said softly, gently taking the basket from Yakumo.

Yakumo smiled at him. "Thanks," she said, and led him away.

* * *

><p>Done washing the dishes, Tenma was finished with her chores for the day, and she figured that it was time to relax, so she settled down by the kotatsu.<p>

There she sat, in private contemplation with her interactions with Harima. She could see plainly the relief in his face, as she had been kind—perhaps too kind?—to him. Tenma, her outrage at the occurrence thoroughly played out, and the misunderstanding recognized for what it was—and now also a matter that she planned to discuss with her houseguest.

Tenma thought wistfully about it for a few minutes, until the _Three for the Kill_ theme song buzzed loudly from the other room, shaking her from her thoughts.

Her ringtone!

Tsukamoto Tenma jumped to her feet and rushed right out, quickly retrieving her mobile, which was still playing the familiar TV show music.

"Hello?" she asked, putting the phone to her ear.

"_Hello_," muttered a soft voice from the other line.

Tenma nearly squealed in delight.

"Karasuma!" the Tsukamoto girl greeted hastily.

"_Ah, yes, Miss Tsukamoto_," he affirmed approvingly. "_I called to ask you something_,"

Tenma's eyes widened as Karasuma gave her the deets.

* * *

><p>Harima and Yakumo were standing in the small laundry room, collaborating to make quick work of folding clothes. Everything was going swimmingly with their combined efforts.<p>

Kenji, after folding a shirt and placing it in the appropriate basket, bent down to pick up another garment, and unthinkingly plucked a pair of flowery pink panties up from the pile.

Standing up, he laid his eyes on his bounty, stretching the material out in front of him to view it more fully. Across from him, Yakumo blushed deeply.

With a shout, Yakumo leaped into action, scrambling at him, grasping desperately for the underwear.

Her quick reaction proved unnecessary, though, for as Harima looked upon his stretched-out catch, he realized the nature of the garment and promptly threw it back, then looked down at his hand as if it had deceived him.

"Shit—my bad!" cried Harima as he threw his hands up defensively in front of him, beholding the flustered Tsukamoto.

Yakumo looked at him hard for a few moments, ending her wild attempt to confiscate the underwear. She looked at him apologetically and quickly bent to retrieve the garment.

"I'll handle the underwear," Tsukamoto explained quickly, her face's bright red blush not diminishing in the least as she dragged a basket containing numerous undergarments closer to herself.

Harima let out a chuckle. "Sorry,"

Yakumo glanced sharply at him, but in taking in his disarming grin, she couldn't hide a reciprocal smile, despite her embarrassment that Harima had studied her panties at such close range.

Harima bent down again to retrieve a more appropriate item of clothing to fold or, alternatively, to slip a hanger in.

The door opened up suddenly, and Tenma excitably rushed inside, clad in her coat and sweatpants.

Yakumo and Harima looked to her curiously.

"I'm going out for a little while," Tenma explained. "_Karasuma_ asked me to join him for a walk!" she cried, her giddiness clear in her tone.

Harima felt as if he'd been stricken in the groin with a solid lead pipe. _Karasuma had asked Tenma on a date!_ The young man nearly buckled and collapsed from the strain of enduring that knowledge.

"When will you be back?" asked Yakumo, her excitement at the prospect of being alone with Harima mounting.

"Before dark," Tenma promised, and she headed out the door. "See you guys later!"

The two heard Tenma's clomping footsteps as she trekked through the house, donned her boots, and exited the house.

* * *

><p>Tenma stood in the chill afternoon air, awaiting the arrival of her date. Karasuma had told her to meet him here—the middle of the nearby park. How excited she had been to discover that Karasuma wanted to see her!<p>

She hadn't been waiting long when Karasuma, dressed in light winter gear, arrived.

"Miss Tsukamoto," greeted Karasuma as he approached. "Hello,"

"Hi, Karasuma," Tenma warmly replied, crossing her arms behind her back.

Oji Karasuma, with a tilt of his chin, pointed to the direction he wished to go. "Come on," he said. "Walk with me,"

Blushing severely, Tenma joined him as he stepped forward.

The two headed off, and Tenma considered trying to hold his hand, but she thought better of it.

The path they walked steadily down was paved in a single direction, although it stretched for perhaps a mile or two, and it eventually led to the other side of town. Rows of trees flanked the path on both sides for its entire length. What little left of the light pink pedal-like leaves fluttered about peacefully in the breeze of the early winter evening.

"I'm so glad you came," Karasuma remarked softly, walking side-by-side with Tenma, who looked to him upon hearing his sudden statement. "To be honest, I did not think that you would agree to meet me here," he admitted.

Tenma couldn't believe her ears.

"Why did you think that?" she asked after a few seconds, her cheeks growing hot, regardless of the cold air she was walking in.

"I was very nervous—to tell you the truth, I could hardly muster the courage to call you in the first place,"

Tenma laughed aloud, her disbelief at the admission making her think of how cowardly she acted toward him in terms of love. So Karasuma was nervous around her, too!

Karasuma looked at her through the corner of his eye, and let out a quiet chuckle. "That's funny to you?" he asked.

"No," Tenma said, recovering from her snicker. "I just think that it's funny that you could be so nervous to ask me out like this," Tenma chuckled. She blushed, closing her mouth. How embarrassing to say such things! …But she could help admitting that she was suddenly much more comfortable in his presence.

"So you _do_ find it funny," Karasuma sighed, feigning a wound and throwing a forearm dramatically over his brow.

Tenma giggled at him, seeing his facade for what it was, and she smiled warmly at him.

Karasuma turned to view her again, abandoning his mock injury. "I'm glad you came," he said again to Tenma, and his tone sounded terribly sincere.

And so they walked on, but Tenma found that she could not grasp Karasuma's hand, in spite of how badly she wanted to.

Tenma could only walk on and enjoy Oji's presence.

* * *

><p>He simply couldn't believe it. Tenma had gone on a date with Karasuma! His mind raced through the possibilities, his fists clenching and opening angrily as he considered the risk that Karasuma would choose this day to seal the deal with his beloved.<p>

Harima wanted to jump up and look for her and the bastard that was taking Tenma out and stop him from confessing and winning the Tsukamoto girl's heart—which he had done already, by Harima's reasoning.

But here he was with her little sister instead.

Yakumo, by her own suggestion, had begun cooking some food, and Harima was leaned against the wall in the kitchen with her. She wasn't saying a lot, Harima noted—but that wasn't really uncommon, after all.

As if on cue, Yakumo suddenly said "Hey Harima… I'd wanted to ask you about something."

Harima leaned in to hear the younger Tsukamoto out. "Yeah, what?"

"I was thinking," she started hesitantly. "You weren't at Tenma's party the other day,"

Harima winced at Yakumo's honest observation. It was true; he hadn't attended, thinking that it would be unwise to go to the birthday party of a girl who was so evidently distressed concerning him.

"Why didn't you go?"

Harima considered the question carefully, and hesitated for a long time. He didn't know how to answer. Did Yakumo know about _The Incident_?

"Eri didn't come either…" Yakumo added, although she sounded more like she was talking to herself than to Harima. "I wonder…" she muttered, and half-turned to look at Harima directly, her features seeming a little somber.

Yakumo looked around at the floor suddenly, appearing to be in deep thought. "Harima," she started again. "I…heard…"

Kenij shifted uncomfortably, fearful of the accusation he knew to be forthcoming.

"I heard from someone that…" she swallowed. "You and Eri…_kissed_…" she stressed the last strongly, the word seeming to hold a tremendous weight behind it. "Is that true? Is that…why you didn't come?"

Harima felt like bugging out in a fit of denial, but instead surprised himself at how he kept his cool, staring at Yakumo hard. "I will confess that the rich girl did, in fact, kiss me,"

Yakumo visibly slumped her shoulders at the admission. "I see," her eyes lowered somberly.

"But I didn't kiss _her_!" Harima quickly declared, and Yakumo looked at him again, a flicker of hope reaching her red eyes. "I mean, she forced herself on me.

"I didn't want anything to do with her," he explained. "And when Tenma saw me and her…" his voice trailed off as he let the implications set in. Harima looked away dramatically and continued. "I couldn't bring myself to come to the party—seeing how she reacted."

Yakumo looked at Harima and managed a look of admiration at him. "Now I see," she said softly, and she turned back to the curry she was preparing.

Yakumo had her answer, and she was pleased. However, another thing nagged at her as she considered Harima's assessment of the impromptu explanation Harima gave her.

_How strongly did Tenma react?_ she wondered. Surely it couldn't have been too dramatic—she wasn't in love with Harima, after all.

Another troubling thought assailed her at that moment. Yakumo, as she continually proofed and edited Harima's manga, had come to notice several things about the characters that reappear in each of his comics.

The hero resembled Kenji Harima very, very closely… And the heroine similarly resembled her older sister, Tenma…

She couldn't help but wonder.

Did Tenma behave stridently in response to the way she perceived him and Eri, as Harima had explained? She could understand that if they were friends, she would be rattled by witnessing such a scene, but to so openly respond so animatedly… Tenma could possibly harbor feelings in return for Harima, all things considered.

The evidence, however unnerving it proved to be for her sensibilities, couldn't be ignored.

Yakumo, in looking at the young man she had grown so fond of, found that her perception of the man she was secretly in love with had changed dramatically and not at all at the same time. While the notion of a possible coupling of Harima and Eri was effectively sacked, her own sister might prove to thwart Yakumo still.

She shook such thoughts from her head, but her contemplation stopped her from trying to make a more open move on Harima that evening.

Yakumo, handing a dish of curry to Harima, smothered a hot blush as she regarded Harima's grateful gaze.

"Thanks, Tenma's sister," Harima said to her, nodding his head.

"Oh," she smiled. "My pleasure,"

* * *

><p>The sun was low in the sky, and the firmament had turned a brilliant pink-orange. It made everything appear so warm, but the bitter winds flew in the face of that perception.<p>

Tenma was walking on air as she made her way up the path which led to the House Tsukamoto. She and Karasuma had gotten on incredibly greatly.

Tenma regretted something, though. She had never confessed to him, despite how relaxed she got with Oji.

There would be a time for that, she decided, making her way into the house. "I'm back!" she called out as she removed her winter boots.

Her smile disappeared as Harima greeted her with a wave.

She had forgotten all about him staying at her house, and she suddenly felt guilty for having gone out with Karasuma, as if in doing so, she had wronged Harima somehow.

Harima turned around, as if to excuse Tenma from her supposed indiscretion. Turned away from her as she was, Tenma couldn't see Harima's frown.


	9. The Disappointing Chapter

**A/N: **Like _Chapter 1_, this chapter borrows heavily from events in the anime (Although honestly, the whole story turned out that way), so one might get bored reading this chapter, but I encourage you to read it anyhow, because I threw in a quick joke right in the middle, and the end sets things in motion for the next chapter.

**Chapter 8**

**The Disappointing Chapter**

She threw up her forearm to the side of her face, and the oncoming fist banged against it, affording her a stinging sensation on the forearm, but that mattered very little to the hard-pressed novice, as she was more concerned with keeping the other girl's attacks at bay.

Eri amazed herself at how she batted aside Mikoto's next punch, and she quickly retreated a few steps, her bare feet pattering on the soft dojo mat as she skittered backward.

She didn't dare to take the offensive, though, looking at her friend's deft movements. Narrowly dodging and seeing Mikoto's composed face—she noted a trace of amusement there, too!—she grimly realized that Suou could take her down whenever she chose to.

The girl who sported the D-cup was only egging her on with her intentionally weak attacks, trying to force Eri into making a mistake and expose an opening, which she would promptly—and gladly—exploit.

She threw her hand out in the wake of a horizontal chop from Mikoto, thinking to deflect it. In the moment Suou's hand dove under her arm and locked tight into her armpit, she knew that she had erred. Faster than she could react, Mikoto hooked her other arm above Eri's elbow and turned her hips into the blonde's, simultaneously spinning her toes in a wide semi-circle across the mat and kicking up, flinging Eri's feet up.

Sawichka found herself unwillingly hurled into a somersault over Mikoto's body to land hard on her back.

Suou Mikoto backed away from the prone rich girl and smirked.

"How'd you do that?" grunted Eri as she rose to a sitting position.

"Stand up; I'll show you," replied Mikoto easily.

Eri was pleased as she grasped her friend's hand and was hoisted to her feet. She and Suou Mikoto were best friends, and Eri had grown to appreciate her a little more since she had been so understanding of her plight, and more so in preserving her and Tenma's friendship as well.

It was nice of Mikoto to agree to let her stay the night at the dojo—it was a particularly excellent distraction from her homely situation—one she didn't care to go into detail with her friend, much to Mikoto's ultimate frustration. It was almost humorous how Mikoto went about ranting about keeping secrets from one's best friend.

"So this is how you get it set up…" explained Mikoto, stepping back. "You're opponent gives you an arm to work with," she said, and she grabbed Eri's arm. "And once you get it, you hook one arm over your opponent's arm, and then hook the other under the other arm," she said as she tucked Eri's arms into a tight hold. She turned around and bent her back into Eri's midsection. "Watch where I put my hips," she explained.

"And then the _reap_," she explained, dragging her toes across the matted floor in a semi-circle, and then kicking up to remove Eri's legs from her, though she took care to give Eri a soft landing as she spun head-over-heels and to then to her back.

Mikoto went through the technique again slowly a few times, and then allowed Eri to practice it a few times. They went at it for a long time, and they were now sparring going back and forth, trading blows.

"You have to stop dropping your arms!" said Mikoto as she seized the sleeve of Eri's borrowed gi and flipped her about spectacularly to land surprisingly softly to the mat.

Suou kneeled down next to the prone Eri. "Keep practicing. You're making great progress," she remarked. "Really impressive for your first time,"

Eri didn't respond right away, working hard to steady her panting breath. Suou stood up and adjusted her belt.

"Mikoto, you're amazing," Eri managed to remark, not rising from her back.

"Well, I've been at it for a while," Mikoto said, chuckling. "Did you work up a good sweat?" she asked.

"Yeah," sighed Eri, still not moving.

Mikoto blew a sigh. "Me too—I'm gonna go hit the shower," she called as she started away, her hands casually tucked into her belt as she went on her way.

"Sure," Eri called back quietly.

She laid there for a minute or so, and then in a burst of sudden energy, she leaped up to her feet.

"Thank you," she said to the empty dojo. "That was really refreshing,"

* * *

><p>"Sorry I took so long," said Eri, a white towel wrapped around her toned, naked body as she entered the steamy bath area.<p>

"It's cool," called Mikoto from the bath in the next room.

Sawichka slid the door open, and a fog of steam rushed up to meet her. There sat Mikoto, her huge breasts half-obscured by the hot water she was submerged in.

"Wassup-wassup," said the rich girl as she opened up her towel, deftly turning to keep her goods out of Mikoto's line of sight. She took a seat on the bench adjacent to a shower that she proceeded to turn on.

"Takin' a bath, home-girl," answered Mikoto, playing along with Eri's uncharacteristic greeting, drawing a giggle from Eri.

"Mikoto, you're so strong," Eri said, turning to look at Mikoto. "You could have gone a little easier on me though... My entire body is covered in bruises...!"

Suou gave her a pouting look, mocking her.

"I do feel a lot better, though, so thank you," Eri said, ignoring Mikoto's mockery. "I'd love to keep learning, if you don't mind,"

"And I'd be happy to keep teaching you," Mikoto replied with a slight nod of her head.

"Hey Mikoto, have things been going well between you and Auso?"

"Well," snickered the martial artist girl. "He hasn't had time to hang out recently, with him playing basketball so much," she explained.

"So what about you?" Mikoto asked.

Eri adopted a solemn look. "Well,"

"Oh yeah…!" cried Mikoto, suddenly aware that such conversation was kind of a tender area with her friend at that time. "Harima," she reasoned grimly, as if it explained everything.

"Harima," she whispered pensively, and she turned her nose to the floor and sighed deeply. "Well, it looks like I'm gonna have to get married pretty soon,"

Mikoto bugged out, physically recoiling in the water as she considered the sudden statement. "What?"

"My parents are making me go to an engagement meeting,"

Mikoto thought about it for a few seconds. "Wait…" she muttered, easing forward to scrutinize the rich girl. "Is that why…?"

"Yeah," breathed Eri. "I figured that if I had a boyfriend, my parents would just have to forget about arranging a marriage for me… When I took Whiskers into the bathroom, I thought that he would be my ticket out…" she muttered quietly. "…My last hope,"

"Yeah," said Suou Mikoto. "But it's just a meeting, right? You can turn it down if you want…" she considered it for a bit. "Or would that cause problems with your family?"

"It might," Eri admitted somberly. "To be honest, I'm actually kind of…afraid. To turn away my parents' request so readily…" she stepped toward the bath that Mikoto rested in. "I'm coming in, okay?"

"Yeah," Mikoto acknowledged offhandedly. "And what do you think you're saying—scared?" she continued, turning a serious glower on her friend. "You're not getting married!" she reiterated resolutely.

"I said don't worry about it! I'll turn him down!" she said, trying to dodge any discussions about such things.

"You'd better," she growled.

Eri's disarming smile deflated Mikoto somewhat, but it was all a ruse, she knew.

Sawichka wasn't certain about anything anymore; she really didn't think she had the courage necessary to decline her parent's insistence considering the marriage they were constantly throwing her way.

* * *

><p>A couple days had passed slowly, and things were still very awkward between Harima and Tenma. They never really talked to each other at length, only exchanged what few words were necessary, and went on their ways.<p>

Yakumo was finished cooking the evening meal, and she was holding forth a fork, making her way toward Harima. She hadn't yet called Tenma to join them for dinner yet, which did deliberately, as she was putting her plan to woo Harima into action.

Suddenly, the fork slipped through Yakumo's hand, clattering loudly to the wooden floor below. "Oh dear," she apologized monotonously. "I am so clumsy,"

Yakumo turned around, putting her back to Harima, and then slowly bent to retrieve the purposely fallen item of cutlery. She bent only her back, keeping her legs straight and stretching far down in order to show off her bottom—and shapely legs—to Harima—as open an advancement as Yakumo had ever tried.

As the youngest Tsukamoto's fingers plucked up the fallen fork, she rocked up onto her heels, bouncing her rump a bit, to get a little booty-shaking action going on, thinking to further entice the young man in the sunglasses.

When Yakumo turned back around to face Harima again, he was looking at her concernedly.

"Is your back okay?" he asked. "It looked like you were moving kinda slow," he observed.

"Oh," said Yakumo, masking her disappointment. "Yes, but I'm seeing a chiropractor,"

"I hope you feel better soon, then," Harima said.

"Thanks…" Yakumo mumbled.

So much for that idea…

* * *

><p>Mikoto sat comfortably in an office chair, inside one of the many rooms Hanai's dojo contained within its secure walls. Her legs were crossed, and the notion of Sawichka's proposed arranged marriage lingered perpetually in her thoughts since it was revealed.<p>

She knew as a matter of fact that Eri Sawichka truly wasn't in any shape to be married to anyone—not now at least; not as a High School student.

No, never that.

It was then that a knock on the door shook her away from her immediate reflections, and she got up to answer the door. Swinging the portal open, she laid disbelieving eyes upon her lover, Auso.

"Mikoto," he greeted, his almond-shaped eyes and compact physique stealing the young woman's voice. "What's up? Can I come in?"

Suou sputtered over a response, then stepped back, waving her hand back into the room to allow her (unofficial) boyfriend's entrance. "Yeah… Yeah—sure! Come in!"

Auso, with a soft smile, took a step into the room, but was abruptly stopped as a giant hand, reaching from behind, clamped around the top of his head. With a blubbering wail, Auso was dragged back and promptly tossed to the side.

In the dispatched Auso's wake stepped a fat, ugly, person—one who looked much like a man, complete with a mustache and a small goatee, but one couldn't be entirely sure in consideration of the clothes the beast wore: a large maid's outfit and a bonnet covered the large, ambiguous person's body.

"Miss Eri…" came the groaning voice. "Where…?"

Mikoto fell back, startled by the surprising turn of events. "What kind of…?" she started to ask.

"Where is the lady?" asked the fat, ambiguous figure in all-business tones.

Suou's anger was steadily increasing. With the unexpected arrival of her love interest being interrupted so violently by this ugly thing…who apparently wanted to have Eri returned to the mansion to go through with an arranged marriage meeting…snapped something in her mind.

Mikoto lashed out, leaping at the frightening maid(?) and throwing her whole weight into a mighty shove.

The hulking maid-like blob of a person seemed not to notice the sudden assault, and roughly forced her attacker back a few steps away with a simple push.

Mikoto, blown away by the terrifying strength of the casual push, tumbled away, tripping up over a footstool.

She watched as the maid entered stupidly, looking about the area, searching for the young blonde.

* * *

><p>Suzuki Masaru the manly plus-sized maid, Eri noted distastefully as she watched the spectacle from behind the cracked-open door.<p>

She'd come to take her back home, where she knew a suitor would arrive and propose marriage to her. Sawichka again considered her lack of bravery when it came to the whole marriage ordeal.

Eri winced as Mikoto attacked the lumbering mannish woman and was simply knocked away.

_Mikoto's fighting for me…_ she thought, squeezing her hands together tensely. _She's willing to risk her own skin to salvage my freedom…_

With a hardened resolve, Eri sucked in her breath and pushed through the door and into the room.

* * *

><p>Mikoto was rushing up to meet the mighty thing of a person once again, but her fire was extinguished as she met the gaze of a solemn Eri.<p>

"Well," the blonde-haired girl said, standing there in the doorway. "It looks like I have to get going,"

"But… You can't…" muttered Mikoto, dropping her fighting stance.

"Don't worry about it…" Eri whispered, stoutly reassuring.

Mikoto grabbed her friend by her shoulders, looking at her wide-eyed and grave, and a tear slid down her cheek. "I'm serious,"

Eri nodded. "I'm not getting married." she said adamantly, and Mikoto, in turn, was afforded no room to argue.

Suou managed a smile, believing in her best friend's resolute attitude.

The two friends hugged tightly for a few long moments, and Eri departed quietly with Suzuki soon afterward.

Mikoto watched them leave, her expression showing her immense faith in her friend and that she would make the right decision.

Her look of serenity changed as she noticed Asou approaching her, stroking a hand across the top of his head.

She hurriedly invited her love interest inside and offered him some ice, repeating her apologies over and over. Auso said that it he was unbothered, and relieved, she and the captain of the basketball team spent a long while together inside.

* * *

><p>The car ride there was the longest of her life, sitting beside her huge and dumb maid—although the mannish and enormous woman served her purposes brilliantly, a fine cook and a finer bodyguard.<p>

Contemplating her situation and her promise to Mikoto, Eri knew exactly what she needed to do.

She would simply tell her mother that she didn't want to go through with it. It was a simple enough thing to do, of course.

The engagement meeting would happen sometime in the afternoon the next day, so she went to bed as soon as she got home.

In the morning, she donned her traditional Japanese robes, a silken violet robe adorned with glittering Japanese symbols with a velvety red silk sash wrapped around her hips. She didn't put her hair in the long twin pony-tails that day either, instead tying it into one long ponytail in the back as to retain a purely customary appearance.

"Oh, look at you," purred Eri's mother, dressed in similar attire. "Eri, you look stunning!"

Eri stared at her mother for a long time, unable to find the words she wanted to say. She was standing idly for a while until she finally muttered "Mother… what are you doing here…?"

"I wanted to talk," her mother replied softly. "Please dear, it will be brief… I promise,"

The young rich girl looked hard at her mother.

"It wasn't easy for you to come here, was it?" the motherly figure asked. "I'm so sorry,"

"Mother, please, it's okay. This isn't your fault…"

"Yes it is," Eri's mother replied quietly. "At least partially…"

"Mother!" Eri said firmly. "Just stop it,"

The woman pursed her lips and looked away. "Please…forgive me."

At that, Eri looked at her hard again.

"It's okay if you don't want to go through with this,"

Eri stared blankly at her mother for a long while.

Her thoughts drifted to consider everything that she had gone through with her friends at school, and outside of school. She had a group of friends whom she adored, she had enjoyed a number of ultimately fun things with her friends, and had endured heartbreaks and hardships with the support of those friends.

Eri swallowed. She had her answer.

"To be perfectly honest…" she began slowly, building momentum for her courage. "I really don't want to do this," she said, plastering a bold smile on her face. "And that's my final decision!"

Before her mother could begin to fabricate any sort of reply, Eri was running—running away in celebration of her absolute choice.

Eri Sawichka was free once again.

* * *

><p>Tenma was sitting in contemplation, wrestling still with her feelings for both Karasuma and Harima. While Karasuma was the one she had loved for such a long time and was giving her the attention she had so desperately craved before, Harima was now a constant in her life, in both her waking homely hours and during the nights as she slept.<p>

She felt that she was growing to love Harima again—did she love him, even? Or was that the simple product of her imagination during her nocturnal phases?

Either way, Tsukamoto Tenma was still struggling with her emotions, and she was growing weary of the constant fight in her thoughts.

A stirring beep sounded from within her loose pants, and she reached into her pocket to produce her mobile phone.

_A text from Karasuma!_

_From: Karasuma_

_I have a surprise for you._

_9:17 PM_

A surprise?

Her heart leaped at that prospect, and she wondered what it could be that Karasuma planned to surprise her with. Could he be planning to confess his love to her?

Her joy was tempered as she looked upon Harima, though, reminding herself of her internal struggle with her love-life.

The eldest Tsukamoto retired to bed soon after, thoughts of Karasuma floated through her thoughts as she lay in bed. But predictably, before long those thoughts were replaced with thoughts of Harima, and she drifted peacefully to sleep.


	10. Shit Veritably Hits The Fan

**A/N: **_Foreword_: The content in the chapter you are about to read contains a very sensitive subject: rape. Some of the content in this chapter can be considered offensive to some people, and I have written this chapter carefully, and I certainly do not intend to offend. I really took every consideration while writing this, so I encourage you to read on; you've survived everything thus far, haven't you? ...Now try to enjoy, please!

**Chapter 9**

**Shit Veritably Hits The Fan**

"T_enma," he started, his voice shaky and wavering with sadness that he was obviously trying to smother. "Please forgive me,"_

_ She stared at him, her face a mask of forced contempt. The facade couldn't hold, though, and her features softened. Her eyes held no anger, only a measure of sadness and perhaps pity._

_ "It was all just a misunderstanding—I'm not a double-dealer," he promised, and he leaned into her, grasping her hands. "I love you—I love you with all my heart!"_

_ She bit her lip to stop it from quivering. Tenma squeezed Kenji's hands and pulled them closer to her. "And I love you," she admitted, and her eyes became larger and glistened with emotion, as tears rimmed their edges. She was quickly enveloped in Kenji's tight embrace—and she hugged back passionately, desperately._

* * *

><p>A sharp creak of the floorboards sounded, breaking the relative silence. Tsukamoto Tenma moaned quietly, turning over onto her side, her face a mask of pleasure, and she muttered "…Love you…"<p>

Another creak, and that sound roused the slumbering Tsukamoto. She opened her eyes sleepily, and the tired slits became wide with alarm.

There stood Karasuma, the moonlight reflecting off of his pale skin, staring at Tenma. Oji loomed above her, a dark silhouette against the backdrop of the moonlight that streaked the night-dark bedroom.

"Karasuma," observed Tenma, bleary-eyed from just having awakened. Excitement from the unexpected arrival of her crush soon dissipated, though, replaced with confusion.

"What are you doing here?" she asked tiredly, rubbing an eye and rising to her elbows.

Karasuma looked from her to the ticking clock a ways away. "Five o'clock," he observed. He then turned back to Tenma. "_Bitch-raping_ time," He advanced on her.

"What?" she asked confusedly.

Karasuma grabbed her by the arm and pulled her toward him. Taken aback and unwilling to cooperate at such a late hour, she pulled away.

Oji Karasuma grabbed her again, with both arms, tightly—painfully tight!—and yanked her toward him.

"No…" she whispered as she was roughly pulled to a sitting position on the edge of her bed.

Karasuma paid her no heed.

"No!" she said again, more forcefully. "Stop, Karasuma!"

Oji looked at her, unimpressed, and planted his hands on her hips.

"I said—!" she began to yell, but a hard punch in the mouth cut her off. One hand grabbed at her throat, and another took painful hold of a considerable lock of dark hair on her head.

"Shut your dirty whore mouth," Karasuma hissed at her, squeezing her throat and hair as he pushed threateningly close to her. "Don't make me go stupid!"

Tenma did become a little more lenient. "Please," she whispered.

Karasuma let go of her neck, then brought his hand to her face to brush the back of his hand against her soft cheek. His gentle touch abruptly became an iron grasp on her face, and Tenma thought that her jaw would snap apart from the force. To keep her in check, he whipped a backhand into her face, causing her to recoil and crumple down to her back. Stinging pain coursed through her face, and she grimaced as Karasuma's hand tucked beneath her chin into another firm choke.

Her breath came in short, labored gasps, unwilling to believe what was happening to her.

Karasuma looked into her terrified eyes and smirked. He found that he enjoyed the sight.

Forcefully, Karasuma tore Tenma's nightshirt open, violently dislodging buttons after a short moment of struggling with them. Once the blouse was ripped open, Tenma's bra was revealed in full.

"No," whispered Tenma, and Karasuma only snickered coldly.

He slipped his hand into his inner coat pocket and drew a small knife. Karasuma watched Tenma gasp in fear, seeming horrified, confused as to his intentions at the appearance of his weapon. Oji then slipped the blade beneath the center of the bra, and then proceeded to saw the undergarment in half.

The bra snapped free, and Karasuma wasted no time in smacking the material aside, revealing the small breasts of Tsukamoto Tenma.

Oji Karasuma eyed them hungrily—evilly. He replaced his knife in his jacket, never looking away from Tenma's trembling body.

Tenma's breathing became a fretful panting, and she bit back tears as Karasuma rubbed a hand about her chest—none too lightly!—feeling her breast.

To add to the oddity and confusion, Karasuma reached into his jacket again, and this time, produced a small packet of red curry sauce. He split the top of the packet between his thumbs and forefingers and hovered the opened package over Tenma's face.

He squeezed the curry from the packet, easily spilling the contents over one cheek, then the other. As there were a few drops leftover, Karasuma squeezed the remainder down onto her exposed chest.

Horrified, Tenma watched as Karasuma bent down to her face and lapped the curry from one side of her cheek, then bent lower, licking the curry from her breast.

Karasuma rose again and, seeming satisfied, licked his lips. He then brought his hands to the waistband of Tenma's pajama pants and started to pull them down.

"No!" she started to shout, and began to wriggle free of his grasp. Her hand shot out desperately, slapping against her nightstand, on which rested an alarm clock. Her slap had the mechanism clacking down to the floor.

Almost in panic, Karasuma reacted, seizing her arms in his hands and forcing them down to her sides. In his efforts, however, he bumped the nightstand as well, and that sent a small glass figurine crashing to the floor, breaking into many pieces, which scattered about the floor.

In a fit of rage that Tenma had grown to dread, Karasuma pushed into her, his one hand gripping her throat, effectively stilling her. "Not…another…sound," hissed Karasuma callously into her ear, putting special emphasis on each syllable, his anger evident in his frightening tone. His free hand came up to pat against his chest, where he had deposited his weapon, the silent gesture promising death if she chose to resist him again.

Still gripping her throat and with frightening speed, Karasuma forced her leggings down to her knees and pulled her terrified body closer to him. He proceeded by unbuckling his belt with one hand, and then yanking down his trousers.

* * *

><p>Tears streamed her features as Tenma was held down, nearly suffocating under Oji's grip. She couldn't believe it—she honestly didn't want to—but it was real.<p>

Absolutely, inescapably, painfully real.

She didn't make a sound, save for the sharp groans as a result of Karasuma's pelvis thrusting into her. Tenma only stared up at him, her mouth agape and eyes wide, completely paralyzed by the horror of it all.

"That's right," Karasuma grunted, smiling down at her wickedly. "Nice and quiet,"

Tenma continued to look up at the gyrating figure cruelly looming above her.

She could only hope that it would be over soon.

* * *

><p>Harima lay awake, staring up at the ceiling of the guest's bedroom. He knew that he had to say something to Tenma soon, or her heart would belong to Karasuma. She had been kind to Kenji—kinder to him than he deserved, he knew beyond certainty.<p>

Kenji didn't even know if she had even really forgiven him for that bathroom incident. She never really talked to him, and she avoided him for the most part.

A dull thud from upstairs broke Harima's train of thought.

It was late at night—probably four or five in the morning. For what reason, he wondered, might there be any amount of ruckus at this hour?

He almost disregarded it, until he heard another dull thud and the muffled sound of something—like glass—shattering.

Something wasn't right. Kenji Harima headed upstairs to investigate.

* * *

><p>She wanted to scream, but she couldn't find her voice under the crushing pressure of Karasuma's firm hold on her throat. Even if she had the capability to do so, she was probably too afraid to, anyway. Tenma had discovered firsthand that Oji was possessed of a powerful strength of arm and was capable of murdering her with that wicked knife.<p>

So there she remained, frozen, save for her limbs steadily shaking with horrified paralysis. She could smell the strong, spicy odor of the curry that dripped down one cheek, the other side smeared from Karasuma licking her—which had certainly heightened her terror and confusion.

The pain of Karasuma's unrelenting penetration was a harsh thing—but harsher still was the betrayal. Oji Karasuma had made her trust him (and that effect was only amplified by her existing love for him).

All thoughts of her own defense had long flown, and she now awaited the end. What would become of her after this, she wondered. She had heard of murder-rape before. Would gentle (if she could even describe him as such anymore) Karasuma, after violating her, subsequently destroy her?

As the mortified Tsukamoto Tenma contemplated her fate, her attention—and Karasuma's—was stolen by the door slamming open, which made a loud _crack_ sound as it swung around and crashed against the wall.

Into the room emerged an insanely furious Harima, cracking his knuckles audibly.

"Karasuma!" roared the man in the sunglasses, and he charged at the rapist.

* * *

><p>"Harima!" gasped Karasuma, his face showing his complete shock. "What are you doing here—?"<p>

Harima's foot flashed straight out in a leaping circle kick, straight toward Karasuma's face. Karasuma brought his forearm up to block, but the defense was meager in comparison to Harima's brutal attack, the force of the kick even still taking Karasuma from his feet and sending him spinning sidelong, head-over-heels.

Karasuma bounced across the floorboards under the terrific impact and rolled away, grunting from the pain. Coming up to a kneeling position, he rubbed a hand over the side of his head, trying to soothe the throbbing pain. He shook his head to clear away the dizziness.

"What've you done to my sweet Tenma?" roared Harima, glancing at the disheveled Tsukamoto. Tenma was now in sitting position, her back pressed tightly against the wall, pulling her shirt tight into her chest to cover her sullied body.

When Harima's gaze turned back to Karasuma, the rapist had his pants up and fastened once more. "There's no way I can let you get away with this," Harima growled fiercely. "I'll never forgive you…"

Karasuma rose to a stand and fell into a crouch, coming into a fighting stance, ready to meet another charge from the enraged Kenji.

Harima came on again ferociously, but Karasuma was ready for him this time, and he ducked under Harima's powerful swing. He scampered around the blow and sent a quick jab into Harima's ribs.

Kenji Harima let fly another punch Karasuma's way, but the smaller man leaped back, just out of reach. Growling, Harima shrugged the pain in his ribs away and stalked in again, at the ready.

Harima suddenly charged at him, quick-stepping deftly to meet him, and he sent an uppercut that had Karasuma bending backward to dodge.

Karasuma's foot came up in a kick, but to his surprise, Harima caught it and tucked it into the crook of his arm. Harima pulled mightily, swinging Karasuma in a wide circle, then let him fly, and the angular tall and thin figure was sent sprawling onto his back.

In charged Harima, taking advantage of Karasuma's seemingly vulnerable state.

Karasuma was the quicker, however, and kicked out at Harima's legs. Kenji wobbled, but managed to keep his balance. Karasuma hooked his legs around Harima's ankles and twisted with all his strength.

Harima toppled over, crashing painfully to the wooden floor.

Karasuma leaped over him and pounded a fist down into his face.

With a roar, Harima shoved Oji to the side and rolled onto him, offering a similar pop in the nose.

* * *

><p>Tenma watched in detached amazement as the fight unfolded in front of her. She was hardly aware of what was happening, though, for her traumatic encounter with rape had her paralyzed still.<p>

Despite her shattered sensibilities, though, she understood that she was being rescued. Harima had come and had Karasuma pinned to the floor.

Momentarily, she looked down at her hands. They were shaking uncontrollably.

Inspecting her surroundings, Tenma considered slipping out of the room and running—far away from there. But she couldn't, she knew. Where would she go—where _could_ she go at this hour, even?

She could only press further against the wall and watch helplessly as the two figures grappled.

* * *

><p>Tsukamoto Yakumo sidled down the hallway, pressed up against the wall of the hallway.<p>

She had heard some suspicious sounds coming from her sister's room. Treading with a sense of bravery, she had approached the door armed with a baseball bat, and she was determined to face the danger without fear—in protection of her home and her only family.

As she heard Harima approaching the door, she slipped back into the shadows, inhibition gripping her in that moment as the possibility of real danger dawned on her in full.

In the moment she saw Harima react so violently, kicking the door open and charging inside, she knew that there was grievous danger at hand, and all thoughts of engaging in an encounter surely flew from her as she considered the enraged Harima.

She thought to flee, but as she contemplated it, she knew she would be abandoning her older sister in what was possibly a dire situation—likely life or death.

Yakumo summoned up all of her courage and scurried up to the door, and retaining a measure of cowardice, she peeked around the edge of the portal.

She first saw Harima and…

Karasuma?

This was bad news, she knew, and she watched the two figures sprawled across the floor in a titanic struggle. Very real fear took hold, and she stared agape at the wild scene.

Taking her eyes off the battle, she quickly searched for her sister.

Curled up atop her bed in a sitting position, Tenma had her back pressed firmly against the wall, her knees up to her chest and her hands closed around her chest as well. Yakumo noted with alarm that a red liquid streaked Tenma's features, and she guessed that Tenma had been assaulted by Karasuma.

There was something about Tenma, she noted, an expression plastered on her face—an expression that Yakumo could only describe as _dread_; a desperate dread that stole the color from Tenma's face, and subsequently, from Yakumo's.

Horror.

Yakumo couldn't swallow past the lump in her throat.

* * *

><p>A defensive hand clamped painfully around Harima's face, digging a finger in his eye and scratching desperately, shoving powerfully to get free.<p>

Harima swung a fist into Karasuma's ribs, weakening his grip on his face. He then seized the arm and pulled the clawing hand away.

A hot pain shot into Harima's arm, drawing a pained howl, and as his arm shuddered back down into view, he saw that a small knife was embedded halfway in his tricep, Karasuma's hand still gripping the hilt. With a long moan of pain, Harima pulled away from it, slowly extracting the weapon from his arm.

One it was removed, he rolled away, but Karasuma leaped on him again and lunged. Harima, twisting onto his back, caught Karasuma's wrist and struggled to keep the blade from plunging into his heart.

They both struggled for a few moments, and eventually Harima had Karasuma's weapon pushed to arms length. With the blade now a safe distance away from his flesh, Harima rolled up to his shoulders and kicked both legs up, launching Karasuma up and over him.

The former delinquent twisted around and jumped to his feet, then spun to face Karasuma, who had similarly recovered.

Harima's sunglasses had been torn away during his long grappling struggle, and he could now see things in clearer detail in the dark. He and Karasuma slowly stalked in a circle, Karsuma waving his knife around threateningly.

Karsuma suddenly dashed at him, slashing his knife across Kenji's midsection, forcing him to jump back and suck in his gut to avoid being split open.

Oji snapped a kick to the inside of Harima's knee, and the man buckled to a kneel, then quickly fell backward and twisted around to narrowly avoid another swipe from the blade.

As Harima scrambled back to his feet, Karasuma lunged at him again and scored a hit, cutting a wide slash across Harima's back. He grimaced in pain, gnashing his teeth, and leaped away from his dangerous enemy.

"Bastard," muttered Harima, falling into a crouch. Suddenly, the pain of his newest wound setting in, he slumped weakly, feeling the hot blood trickling down his back, soaking his shirt with a dark red.

Karasuma, his victorious grin looking like the insane smile of a murder-intent madman, waved his knife around once more.

Harima, panting with weariness, his mouth hanging open, took a few moments to glance at Tenma, still flat against the wall, still stricken with paralyzing terror.

The purest, most wonderful, most beautiful girl in all the world had been brutally attacked and humiliated…and she needed him.

Growling and shrugging away the pain, Harima rose up to his feet again, his face locked in a murderous stare. He broke into a sprint at Oji, issuing a long, single-toned roar all the way.

Karasuma stabbed at him, and Harima threw his arms out wide to the sides, slapping the knife harmlessly wide—affording him a wicked gash on his forearm. But he didn't care; Tenma was the only person in the world that mattered at that point.

Karasuma's attack did little to slow Harima's momentum, and he was barreled over. Harima, straddling over him, grabbed Karasuma roughly by the hair and brought his fist back for a punch.

Before the attack was carried through with, though, Karasuma buried the knife hilt-deep into Harima's shoulder. Harima grimaced, but otherwise didn't seem too affected. He closed his hand around Karasuma's hand and slowly pried his fingers from the weapon's hilt. Once he had it firmly grasped, he promptly yanked it out.

With an enraged shout, Harima pulled his arm back again, then brought the knife's hilt crashing down into Karasuma's face.

Karasuma's head bobbed about deliriously, but Harima's rage was far from sated. He hit him again, and Karasuma's head bounced under the impact, and his eyes crossed, the blow hit him so hard it blurred his awareness.

_I…I could kill this bastard…!_ thought Harima, his mind blurry with rage and violence. _…And he deserves it…_ He turned the knife over in his hand.

He watched as Oji's eyes fluttered, likely slipping in and out of consciousness. He thought, through the haze—the red wall of pure rage and hatred—of the events that would inevitably follow if he were to dispatch Karasuma.

Harima would be criminalized—would go to prison, and be tried for murder. He would be evil—a killer. His career in comics would be over. He would never get his chance to be with Tenma…

It was then that Yakumo dared to enter the room.

"Tenma!" cried Yakumo, rushing to her older sister's side, crawling onto the bed with her. "Tenma," she said, stroking her sister's hair in an effort to console her. "It's okay—you're okay,"  
>Yakumo looked to Harima and spied the knife in his hand, and Harima, panting furiously and bleeding from several wounds, stared back at her pleadingly.<p>

She knew what he was thinking. She was a truly good person, and although she knew it was tempting for Harima to finish off the intruder who had hurt Tenma so, she shook her head.

That was it, then.

Harima dropped the knife to the floor and turned back to Karasuma, who was now looking at him weakly, through one cracked eyelid.

Kenji Harima took a deep breath.

He let out a cry as he slammed one last hard fist in the rapist's face for good measure, and Karasuma knew no more.


	11. And Then?

**A/N: **Here's chapter 10. Just so you know, chapter 11 is pretty much done now, so you can expect that to be up shortly. Until then, though, read and enjoy this story that I wrote for you.

**Chapter 10**

**And Then?**

She settled steadily, falling forward and catching, then holding herself up on her hands. Tenma, feeling terribly drained, found the strength to look around and survey her surroundings.

Harima was on the floor, blood trickling slowly down several wounds on his body, with an unconscious Karasuma propped up into a sitting position as he roughly tied the apprehended rapist's hands behind his back.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, Yakumo was on the phone, insistently requesting for law enforcement to come and take Karasuma.

"Please," Yakumo was saying. She paused, listening to the words the person on the other line was saying. "There are three of us…" she explained, and then paused again.

Tenma directed her attention away from her sister, trying hard to steady herself, shaking her head.

She wanted desperately to believe that what had transpired hadn't really happened—that it had all been a bad dream… But it did; she knew she couldn't deny anything.

She looked to Harima as he stood up again, who visibly winced from the pain of his stab wounds.

Something occurred to her as she looked into Harima's face without his customary sunglasses. He looked distantly familiar. She couldn't quite place it, but there was something about his face that she recognized from somewhere...some time ago, she sensed.

Harima pulled off his bloody shirt to clean his wounds, and he turned around, and Tenma got a look at Harima's bare back.

One long scar ran down his back—which was now joined with a new laceration, caused by Karasuma's knife, to create an **X** shape athwart his back—a scar that Tenma recognized, from a pivotal event from her past that had all but escaped her memory. But now it all came rushing back to her.

She had her answer. Her eyes widened as she realized the truth of it.

Harima came to her then, pressing his shirt on his bleeding shoulder. "Tenma," he said, noticeably straining himself to appear calm. "Tenma, are you okay?" he asked.

"You saved me," she breathed.

He pursed his lips, staring at her hard. Harima sighed and gently put his hands on Tsukamoto's shoulders, leaving his shirt draped across his bleeding shoulder. "Are you hurt?"

She didn't respond to Harima's question, but rather, she pressed on with her earlier statement. "Just like last time,"

Harima's confusion was splayed clearly on his features.

Tenma didn't press the issue any further. She just kept staring at him, her eyes scrutinizing and…

Still cute, Harima admitted silently to himself. He quickly dismissed the notion, though, knowing well that it was a post-emergency situation, Tenma being a victim. There was no room for such fantasies at this time.

"What do you mean?" asked Harima after a while.

Tenma didn't react, other than instinctively flinching when as spoke.

He started to repeat the question, but Yakumo clapped her phone shut, catching Harima's attention.

"They're on their way," Yakumo announced.

Harima nodded at her, and then brusquely regarded the unconscious Karasuma. "They'd better get here fast…" he muttered. "I'm getting sick of looking at this piece of trash…"

The wounded young man turned back to face the shaken Tsukamoto Tenma to find that her gaze had not relented.

Yakumo, turning about and leaning in, joined Harima and Tenma. "Are you all right, sis?" she asked.

Tenma broke her gaze from Harima, turning to her sister, and after a few moments of silence, nodded slowly, and then lowered her gaze to her tattered clothes and dirtied body.

It was only then that Harima noticed that Tenma's shirt was torn open and her breasts were showing. With surprised squeak, Harima jolted up again, removing his hands from Tenma's shoulders. He looked around to find something to cover the soiled body of the girl he had rescued…

_Or avenged_, he reasoned solemnly, knowing that Karasuma had actually penetrated her—had stolen her innocence. As he walked past, Harima glared down at the tied-up Karasuma and fought the mighty urge to kick him with all his strength.

He rushed down the stairs and into the guest room, where he had his green hooded sweatshirt folded over a chair.

Harima snatched it up and ran back up the stairs again, and Yakumo and Tenma were still sitting on the bed together.

The former delinquent immediately walked up to Tenma and set it in her lap, saying "Put this on,"

After a few moments' hesitation, Tenma complied and donned the sweatshirt, then visibly settled, leaning on Yakumo for support.

Harima considered the scene, taking bitter note of Karasuma's presence. He knew he had to get her out of the room, to find her some reprieve from the turmoil that was no-doubt.

"We should probably go downstairs," Harima remarked, gaining both Tenma and Yakumo's attention. "Come on,"

He gently hoisted Tenma from the bed and to her feet, and she had both Harima and Yakumo flanking her, needing their support as they went down the stairs.

From the way Tenma moved and winced with each step, the two could tell that Tenma was in pain—to have her virginity so brutally stolen caused her to bleed, and much of it was dried on her inner thighs.

Upon seeing that, Yakumo hurried away as Tenma was gently helped to a sitting position on the tatami mat. Harima joined her on the floor in a cross-legged pose. It wasn't long before Yakumo returned with a towel and the first aid kit.

They sat for only a little while, sitting in silence until the unmistakable red and blue flashes of the police shone in the windows.

"We'll be right back, sis, don't worry," Yakumo said to Tenma as she and Harima trudged through the front door to meet the first-responders.

Tenma watched them leave absently.

* * *

><p>The man rushed out of the car, starting toward the wooden house. As he scurried into<p>

Harima ran up toward the cars.

Evidently, the officer understood that the situation was a break-in and assault—sexual and then violence. Thinking quickly, he thought that the assailant was escaping, and he with lightening speed, he pulled his taser free and shot the man, sending 50,000 volts of electricity throughout Harima's body, and the delinquent flopped weirdly as the electricity shot through his limbs.

Kenji collapsed in an awkward heap, shaking still as the flow of electricity shocked his limbs.

"Stop!" cried Yakumo, rushing to join Harima and the policeman. "He's okay! Don't—!"

"Tsukamoto?" asked the officer, and Yakumo nodded.

"Yes, I'm the one who called," Tsukamoto Yakumo replied. Yakumo bent to retrieve the fallen Harima. To her surprise, Harima recovered from the electrifying halt more quickly than she had anticipated. The young man grunted in indignation and rose to a sitting position.

"Sorry, son," the officer apologized, and Harima glared back at him.

"We're fine," said Tsukamoto, and she motioned toward the house. "We have him incapacitated; he's inside," she informed, and the officer nodded again.

"We'll send in a couple to receive him," the officer assured, producing a pair of handcuffs. "So do you know what happened?"

"He snuck inside during the night," guessed Yakumo, and at that, the officer jotted something down on a small pad. "Into my sister's room…"

"And where is your sister?" the officer pressed.

"She's inside," Yakumo said.

The man nodded. "So what happened after he came inside?"

"He…" the words were caught it Yakumo's throat. "…took advantage…of her…" she said meekly.

The man jotted something else down. "And after that…?"

"Harima and I intervened while Karasuma—the intruder—had my sister pinned down on her bed… Harima stopped him, although he took some hits from the intruder's knife." explained Yakumo, and Harima looked away indignantly.

"Good God, son," remarked the officer, scrutinizing Harima's wounds. He waved a troupe of medics over. "You don't need to go the hospital or anything, do you?" he asked as the medics knelt down near Kenji and pulled forth some gauze and tape.

"No," replied Harima, forcing a cool demeanor. "It's nothing—It didn't hurt at all…"

The officer's eyes widened as something occurred to him. "The girl—was she—?" he started to ask.

"She's all right," Harima ascertained from below

"The intruder's inside, tied up and bound in some cord…still in my sister's room." Yakumo informed, and the officer nodded, and then wrote something new on his pad.

"Anything else you want to tell me?" he asked indolently, and Yakumo shook her head helplessly, clutching her sleeve and shrugging.

"Okay," the man said, and he pointed to his reception squad and indicated the house, silently ordering them to take the apprehended rapist away. "Don't worry, folks, we'll take it from here,"

"Thank you officer," said Harima, and the words surprised him as they left his mouth. He'd never before showed respect to a figure of authority—especially the police.

Harima and Yakumo waited outside on the lawn, and after a few minutes, the team came outside with Karasuma, who had stirred and seemed confused and disoriented, looking around stupidly and stumbling along with the law enforcement officers flanking his sides.

He was ushered into the back of a cruiser, his head being pushed brusquely downward as he entered, and as the door was slammed behind him, he promptly collapsed sidelong onto the seat, so weakened from his fight with Harima, and exhausted from the many hours he had spent deprived of sleep.

Harima and Yakumo watched grimly as he was shuttled off, and with brief regards, the police left the site, and the two went back inside.

Tenma was there sitting upon the floor, a towel tucked between her bloodied legs. She was still likely in shock, they knew.

Harima was still baffled about his and Tenma's exchange.

"I don't want to sleep alone," Tenma announced suddenly.

"You can sleep in my room," offered Yakumo, and Tenma nodded, then looked in Kenji's direction.

"Harima," Tenma started, and Harima straightened under Tenma's stare. "Could you stay in the room with us?" she asked. "I'll be more comfortable if you do,"

Harima nodded, only too eager to comfort Tenma in these dire straits.

* * *

><p>The first rays of the early morning sun crept up outside the window, and Tenma was still lying there. In truth, it had only been an hour or so, but the rays of the dawn made it feel like time had passed at a crawl.<p>

Her weary eyes slowly shifted to Harima, sitting up in a chair, facing her and Yakumo. She had wanted him—her hero—here with her. The young man had donned a clean shirt and his trademark sunglasses which obscured his features, but she knew better now.

Kenji Harima was that boy who had rescued her from a criminal with a knife those years ago. She knew that with certainty. Considering what happened, Tenma weighed that long-ago situation against her abrupt loss of innocence. She considered Harima's actions since that time and she knew in her heart that the young man was not the pervert that she had thought he was. Not then, and not the previous week during _The Bathroom Incident_.

Looking upon him, numerous bandages covering his injuries, she considered Harima's grand display in her rescue. He had taken slashes and stab wounds from Karasuma.

Karasuma…

The word stung her profoundly; her heart throbbed with sadness. All the emotion and love she had held for the young man had seemed to have been all but destroyed since he had defiled her body so. With the realization of Karasuma's inner wickedness came a consuming, overwhelming grief.

The shock of the situation thoroughly played out, Tenma could hold the emotion back no longer, and she started to cry.

As her shoulders bobbed with sobs, she didn't notice Harima stand up and walk up to her, assuming a kneeling position beside her.

Tenma felt a hand pat her on the back, and she looked up to see Harima's face, seeming full of compassion, despite the bulky sunglasses that hid his features.

"Harima," she whispered through soft sobs.

"It's okay; you can cry if you need to," he ascertained, rubbing her back comfortingly.

Tenma couldn't hold back the tears, but she did well not to be too obnoxious, for she knew that Yakumo was asleep above her. The whole time the girl cried, Harima was silent, keeping her in his comforting hands.

"I'm surprised that you were awake," Tenma remarked after a few minutes of her subdued weeping.

"Adrenaline from the fight," explained Harima. "Besides, I've been watching over you, like you'd asked,"

"Thank you," she muttered. "For everything… Harima,"

Kenji smiled down at her, but it dissipated as something occurred to him. "About what you said earlier…" he remarked. "What did you mean by that? '_Just like last time_'?"

Tenma swallowed.

"After you…saved me…I saw your face—you weren't wearing your sunglasses…" Tenma explained after a short time. "It took me a little while, but I eventually remembered—you saved me from a dangerous situation before…"

Harima couldn't suppress his surprise, and after the initial shock, he opened his mouth as if to protest, but Tenma continued before he could get any word in.

"…And after I fainted or something… I woke up in a mysterious room with you hovering over me…"

From his sudden jump and his startled expression, Tenma knew that Harima had caught on.

"That was a—!" interjected Harima, louder than he had intended. He paused and collected himself. "That was a misunderstanding…" he explained softly.

"I know now," Tenma whispered, nodding weakly. "You're too good of a person. I know you…" Tenma seemed to swoon slightly, and then leaned upright again, as if the energy spent from just speaking had taken a toll on her consciousness.

"And I know…that it was Eri who took you into the bathroom…"

Kenji's eyes widened as he listened to the startling revelation.

"It was all a misunderstanding…" she reasoned. "Everything…"

Harima, seeing that Tenma seemed to be forgiving him for every perceived misdeed at her expense had him almost in tears. "Tenma," he whispered shakily. "You finally understand,"

Harima thought to confess his love to her right there, but held the urge back. _Doing that immediately after a traumatic event like rape might not be such a great idea_, he surmised.

"And…" she started again. "…You saved me, Harima…"

Tenma abruptly wrapped her arms around his waist in a hug, her head coming to rest on his abdomen. "And I'll never forget it… Thank you…"

Memories of Karasuma and the frightening escapade flashed again in Tenma's head, and tears renewed in her gentle eyes.

An understanding Harima slowly wrapped his arms around her, hugging returning the eldest Tsukamoto's hug. He placed his chin atop Tenma's head and rocked her in his arms.

"Don't worry about anything, Tenma," whispered Harima as quietly and comfortingly as he could manage. "I'll protect you, no matter what,"

Never in her life had Tenma felt so secure and warm.

A minute or two slipped past, and Tenma hadn't moved.

Kenji was about to question her, but when he heard her rhythmic breathing, he knew that she had fallen asleep in his arms. It was as if Tenma's monologue had lifted a weight from her shoulders, and the resolution of the turmoil in her mind had allowed her to finally sleep.

Smiling softly, he settled back, propped up against the wall, and closed his own eyes, allowing himself to drift to a well-deserved rest, relishing in Tenma's dependent embrace.

* * *

><p>Yakumo opened her eyes, squinting against the bright sunlight of the early day. She turned onto her side, her eyes lazily wandering around her room.<p>

The younger Tsukamoto regarded the spectacle curiously at first, but her curious gaze grew into one of surprise as the events of the previous night flooded back into her memory, seeing Harima snuggled together with Tenma a couple paces away.

She slowly bent upright, staring at the two figures breathing rhythmically together as they were cuddled up in each other's arms.

Yakumo, on several occasions, had found herself fantasizing about that very instance, only it was _herself_ that was in Harima's muscled arms.

It was a troubling sight for her to bear. In fact, she was forced to crawl out of bed, tip-toe past them and leave the room altogether.

Right outside the door, she pressed her back against the wall adjacent to the portal and covered her mouth with her hand.

Shaking her head, Yakumo journeyed downstairs.

Tenma had taken her restful comfort in Harima's arms! While she was glad that she had found relief and temporary reprieve from the poignant emotions that follow a rape, the despondent envy in Yakumo's heart found its foothold.

Yakumo sank to the floor.

_Shit!_ she thought. _Shit, shit shit!_

* * *

><p>Harima awoke first, stirring easily, his eyes fluttering open as his senses returned. Not even needing to rise, for he had been in a sitting position the whole of the morning as he slept.<p>

Tenma was around his waist.

Kenji, wide awake now, reached over Tenma's face and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. How he enjoyed her closeness!

The young man's pleasant feelings for the situation dimmed considerably as memories from the night before came back to him, reminding him that he was comforting Tenma at this point, not trying to seduce her!

His thoughts then turned to his and Tenma's exchange immediately before they retired. Tenma knew about him being _The Pervert_ from those years ago, and had acknowledged his "misdeeds" as misunderstandings. She had seemed to be completely unscathed by the revelation.

Harima thought long and hard for a while about Tenma's apparent contentment before falling asleep.

He had thought for sure that Tenma would condemn him for that long-ago incident. Why hadn't she reacted strongly in any way? And now she was sleeping in his arms. Why?

Then it hit him.

* * *

><p><em> "What do they mean? The dreams?"<em>

"_Do you love him?" asked Mikoto, her arms crossed over her chest._

* * *

><p><em>That's right!<em> Harima realized suddenly, his mouth opening wide with the surprise. _In the girl's bathroom!_ _She was telling Suou...!_

* * *

><p><em> "I don't know…" muttered Tenma, and she gave a frustrated squeal.<em>

"_I could…" Tenma admitted after a second or two of consideration. "I could see that. Like I said, he's a real sweet guy…"_

* * *

><p>Harima looked back down at Tenma as she remained sleeping in his lap. <em>That she was in love with me…<em>

**A/N: **And by the way, dear readers, I've grown suspicious that you've all become idle (you've stopped reading my material because I've lost your interest, and consequentially, your attention). Have you truly abandoned me? I must tell you, the feedback from my readers is really an essential tool for me-it provides the strongest source of incentive I have to keep writing. I need to know you're out there. I mean, if there was no audience, then why would I even bother to continue to write this garbage?

I'll tell you why. Because I'm a man who finishes what he starts...

My point is, though: _Please review, for God's sake_!

So anyway, I think I've said too much. Until next time, stay thirsty, my friends.


	12. Sentiments

**A/N:** So, here we are: The Final Chapter. Boy are you in for a treat! (I must say, though, I finished this chapter and posted it late at night, so the chapter might not be as epic as I had wanted it to be.) Now read it, if you will.

**Chapter 11**

**Sentiments**

He didn't remember how much time had passed since he had started staring down at Tenma when she stirred. Harima watched as Tenma's eyes fluttered open and weakly scanned around to consider her surroundings.

The room was bathed in a pale, dim, blue light, as the noon sunlight beat through the blue window-curtains.

Tsukamoto's gaze shifted up to view Harima's face, and she offered a weak smile at him. "Harima," she greeted.

"Morning," acknowledged Harima unsteadily. The former delinquent scrutinized Tenma's face and he noted with distaste that there were traces of dried curry sauce still upon her cheeks, and some bruises he hadn't noticed during the night.

Tenma took a few moments to look around at herself and let things come back to her. She rose up, her eyes wide with surprise, and she suddenly didn't seem as terribly sullen as she did the previous night.

"Sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't mean to fall asleep on you,"

"It's okay," said Harima quietly, never taking his eyes from her.

Tenma rolled down to her bedroll, leaving Harima with his back still pressed to the wall.

He felt light-headed. Tenma was in love with him. There was no question about it!

Tsukamoto let out a sharp exhale of pain as she shifted up.

Logically, Harima surmised that in addition to the bruises she suffered, Tenma's genitalia had no doubt gotten viciously sore.

He reached out to her as he rose to his feet. "Tenma, let me help you,"

Tenma looked at him thankfully—warmly.

It surprised him. It had hardly been half a day after Tenma was literally attacked and raped. How did she seem so surprisingly impassive in consideration of the ordeal, despite the evident pain she was in?

Harima suddenly respected Tenma's strength, and he found that he suddenly grew exponentially more in love with her.

"Harima," remarked Tenma as she glanced at herself and ran a hand through her thick black hair. "I think its high-time I had a shower."

Deciding to dismiss that disaster a few hours ago temporarily, Harima offered Tenma a tempered mirthful smile. "I think so too,"

The young man couldn't help but watch Tenma as she stretched the weariness from her bones. She didn't appear to need help as she slowly shuffled out of the room and made her way to the bathroom.

* * *

><p>"Hey Yakumo," said Tenma, shuffling lazily into the room, where Yakumo was sitting at the kotatsu with a bowl of cereal.<p>

Yakumo regarded her plaintively, swallowing the cereal she was in the midst of eating. "Good morning, Tenma," she said. "Did you…sleep well?"

"I slept like a baby," she said, allowing some mirth in her tone—something Yakumo wasn't expecting.

Rape victims always grew morose for a few days, weeks, months, or even years, for that matter—sulking about the traumatic effects of their sexual defilement.

Something occurred to Tenma as she regarded her sister. She was slow to realize it, but when she did, her eyes widened. Harima and Yakumo…!

"Yakumo," muttered Tenma. "You must have seen it," she said, her mirth disappearing. "Me and Harima like that… it wasn't…!"

Yakumo endured it all in silent agony. While she was in deep turmoil—the only man she loved was close to Tenma—and vice versa, by all appearances. But Tenma had only just endured one of the most notable brutalities she could imagine—a violent sexual assault on you by one whom you loved and trusted unconditionally.

Yakumo had long ago decided that in the entire world, the dearest thing to her was her older sister, Tenma. Her love for her sister was absolute and could not be the compromised—especially not over some boy…

If she and Harima fell in love, however unhappy that could make her, she would support Tenma fully, and without regrets.

"How many times have I told you, Tenma?" asked Yakumo quietly. "It's not like that between me and Harima," The words came out smoothly and cool, but on the inside, the words tore at her heart savagely. "We're friends,"

Tenma only looked at her sister; her eyes studied Yakumo's. "Then why…?" she started to ask.

"I help him with his work," the younger sister explained. "We were never in love…"

Tenma offered a weak smile at Yakumo, shaking her head to dismiss the conversation. "As long as you're not mad at me," she said, shrugging. "I'm gonna take a shower,"

Yakumo nodded, and Tenma dipped out of the room. Once her older sister was gone, she threw her head into her hands.

She took a series of heavy steadying breaths, trying to calm her broken heart.

Yakumo felt the room darken around her, and after a few moments of hesitation, she dared to lift her head from her hands and look up.

She flinched as she saw the ghost from before, surrounded by its green-glowing ethereal haze.

The apparition was floating high above, stretched out in the air as if she were reclining easily on a sofa, her gazing head held aloft by two supporting hands.

"_Isn't this an interesting turn of events_?" asked the shade, seeming amused by Yakumo's distressed countenance.

Its sneer vanished, replaced almost instantaneously by a frown. "_You knew it would come to this eventually_," the ghost reminded.

Yakumo looked away.

"_You know that Harima is in love with her_," it said, striking a chord in the conflicted young woman's heart.

"Shut up!" cried Yakumo, disconcerted.

The ghost scoffed amusedly the meager flash of anger offered by the adolescent. "_Isn't love a wonderful thing_?" it mocked.

"I can't help it if Harima likes Tenma," whispered Yakumo, resignation in her breathless voice.

"_True enough_," said the shade. It shook its head and grinned wickedly. "_But it's rather funny, you must admit_,"

Yakumo folded like a cheap card table on the table, covering both her ears with her hands. "Go away…!" she whispered desperately. "Go away!"

She heard the ghost chuckle echo in her mind, and the mocking laughter dragged on for a long while, gradually fading out of audibility.

Then there was silence.

* * *

><p>She stood there for a while, staring down at her stripped body. Tsukamoto rubbed a hand across the flesh of her inner thigh. There was a solid smear of dried blood.<p>

Tenma winced as she replayed the scene in her head again. Karasuma's inhumanly evil leer stretched across his countenance as he forced himself inside—

Shuddering, stepped inside the shower, trying hard to forget the incident. It was over and it would not happen again.

As she twisted the handle, the hot water sprayed forth, showering her body in the pleasant-feeling water.

Tenma stood in the warm spray for a minute or two before she finally bent to seize the shampoo bottle. She squeezed the thick, viscous gel into one hand, and then massaged it into her scalp, working a voluminous lather in her hair.

She closed her eyes as she rubbed the shampoo through her soapy, wet locks. Tenma was greeted of haunting visions of Karasuma's violent scowl as it appeared to her through the gloom.

Her lips trembled and curled, fighting back soft sobs as the memory raged freshly in her mind. She almost gave in to the urge to weep despairingly, but the vision of Harima's foot smashing against the side of Karasuma's face amazed even her.

She saw it all again in clarity: Kenji fighting like a divinely-inspired avenger for her cause. Her sadness vanished as she looked upon Harima's tender angular face in her mind's eye.

A while passed until Tenma realized that she had been standing in the shower without rinsing her hair for a remarkably long time.

Somehow Harima's presence in her mind had her melancholy put to rest and had she had been thinking about Harima for such a long while, she had lost track of time.

It surprised her.

Since the rape, Tenma had felt perpetually melancholy, her thoughts weeping in monotonous despair. But by some means she didn't quite understand, Harima's presence made her feel content—even…happy.

The dreams she had of Harima and the romantic experiences flitted into her consciousness again for consideration. She recalled the warm imaginings of love from her dreams… Smiling suddenly, Tenma discovered that she found those notions pleasant.

After rinsing the soap from her hair, she glided conditioner through it. Afterward, she scrubbed her body down with a soapy rag.

With her thoughts turned to the comforting arms of Kenji, she felt no grief for the unfortunate situation the night before. She took no shame in imagining the rag was Harima's hand as she gently slid the rag about her body. It was a strange feeling, so soon after being violently molested and beaten by that boy she had loved before, but she felt it keenly.

She knew with certainty that she had fallen in love.

* * *

><p>It was the same as it had been for past few days, sitting together at the kotatsu, eating dinners-meal that Yakumo prepared—and she was a great cook, too. While things hadn't changed physically, they all felt it—the change in atmosphere. Tenma was quieter, not her usual loud, playful self anymore.<p>

Harima plucked at a bit of tofu from the bowl of miso soup and stuffed it into his mouth. Damn, was Yakumo a good cook!

It was quiet, save for the tiny _tink-tink_ sound of chopsticks tapping against the inside of the porcelain bowls which held the miso.

Yakumo was the quietest, of course. Although it was normal of her, she seemed a bit shaken and confused. Was it a strong reaction to her older sister being raped? Likely that she had found a source of vulnerability—if her older sister was so readily attacked, did it not make _her_ prone to a similar scenario?

Harima shot Yakumo little more than a sympathetic glance, for it was Tenma who deserved attention for her freshly-despoiled body.

Kenji looked in Tenma's direction, to find that Tenma was staring at him, and when she noticed his reciprocal gaze, she blushed and averted her eyes.

Harima surmised that it had something to do with him and Tenma sleeping together in that manner, hugging. Tenma was embarrassed about it, very likely.

Regardless, the vulnerable look on Tenma's face made him want to profess his love to her right then and there, to make her happy and make absolutely certain that she never felt sad like this again.

* * *

><p>Later that evening, and the sun was low in the sky, and the soft yellow-orange light of the day's end glistened off his sunglasses as he stood in the breeze.<p>

It was a surprisingly warm evening, and Harima had decided to stay outside for a bit to enjoy what little remained of the day, before the onset of winter came in full.

He was standing on the wooden porch outside, staring at the lazy evening clouds as they drifted slowly along.

The silence was nearly complete, for not even the chirp of a bird spoiled the hush of the beauteous evening. The only sound that permeated the vicinity was the soft wail of the wind.

Kenji Harima didn't hear Tenma's approach as she padded up behind him, slowly and silently. She stood there for a few moments, admiring the man who had saved her life twice—the man she had fallen in love with.

Stepping forward, she remarked "It's a beautiful sunset,"

Harima turned around to regard her, eyeing Tenma with a curious stare. He didn't say anything.

"It's a beautiful sunset…" repeated Tenma, looking at him directly. "…don't you think?"

Harima half-turned to the sky and let a grin cross his lips. "Yeah, it is, isn't it?" he agreed, and he returned his gaze to Tenma.

They stared at each other silently for a long while.

"Watch the sunset with me," Harima invited.

Tenma smiled mildly at him and came to his side.

The pair stood there, watching as the sun careened over the horizon, so-slowly descending.

He didn't understand it, but there was something in the air. Something he could only describe as magical. The beauty of the majestic sunset and the even more infinite beauty of Tsukamoto Tenma as she watched it with him brought a certain vibe into the very air around them.

"Tenma," said Harima, clenching a fist at his side. "Listen to me," He turned to her, and she regarded him curiously. "There's something important that I need to tell you—something I…"

The mysterious aura told him that it was the right moment; the absolutely perfect time to confess to Tenma.

Kenji cleared his throat. "Something I've wanted to tell you for a long time," He turned completely to face her.

It was coming out—whether he liked it or not, it was going to come out regardless.

"I love you," he blurted. He gazed down at her, scrutinizing the face of the surprised Tsukamoto.

It was breathless suspense for Kenji as Tenma stared unblinking back at him. They stood together for a long while, and to the two, it was as if the world and all its activity had hushed and faded away around them. All they saw was the other person illuminated under an imaginary spotlight amidst the surrounding blackness.

Those three words seemed to throb desperately in their minds. "I love you,"

Suddenly, Harima realized that Tenma seemed closer. Had he unconsciously moved toward her? Or did she move toward him without him realizing it?

They came closer to each other—they were nearly touching! By this time, the two spotlights had coalesced into one singular cone of light.

Tenma licked her lips, and only just realized how surprisingly heavy her breathing had become. Her heart pounded in her chest as she continued to gaze into Harima's handsome angular face.

Blushing deeply, Harima felt beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Tenma looked incredible—too beautiful—more unfathomably gorgeous than he could even begin to describe. The bruises he had earlier noticed on her face had all but disappeared in his rapturously adoring eyes.

To them, the memory of the night before had grown fantastic and remote; all there was in the world was the two of them, staring at one another.

The words came out suddenly. "_I love you_," Harima and Tenma said together with poignant clearness.

Moments passed, and their hearts seemed to be in perfect synchrony. Their pulses were almost audible as they pounded in the dramatic seconds.

"_I love you too_," they said—in unison once again. It felt like a beautiful union of souls—Harima and Tenma were as one in that moment.

It couldn't be held back any longer. Before either of them realized it, Tenma was wrapped in Harima's arms, pulled close, but leaned back so that her eyes never broke away from his.

Bending lower, Harima's lips met Tenma's in a lingering, passionate kiss. Harima kissed her, throwing away his pride completely in that moment of surprising intimacy, falling fully with Tenma. Tsukamoto returned the kiss in full, allowing herself to be swallowed by Kenji's powerful love-filled embrace.

Somehow, it all felt right; as if it wasn't just a kiss, but something entirely necessary—something the two were put on the Earth to do. It was destiny.

Their true feelings had been bared, and their passion burst forth in that ecstatic release of pent-up emotion. It was sheer, exuberant, instinctive, unreasoning, careless joy.

Abruptly, they broke off the kiss, settling back into each other's arms. Breathing hard, they stared deeply into each other's eyes, the silent exchange expressing their sheer serenity.

"Oh Tenma," breathed Harima. "I've always loved you…"

Tenma pulled back farther, slipping gently out of the tight hug and stood before him. Taking his hands in her own, she smiled at him widely, giggling quietly through soft, joyful sniffles.

"Oh, Harima," she managed to blurt before letting out another weeping hiccup of a laugh. "I'm so happy…!" Gentle tears made their way down her smooth cheeks; there was no sadness in her heart.

The world around them came suddenly back into focus, and they both realized that the night had fallen while they were entranced.

"I'll do my best to make sure you stay happy," promised Harima sincerely, his eyes alone revealing his euphoric admiration for the girl he beheld in all her splendor.

She was smiling, tears in her joyful eyes. There she was, the smiling incarnation of loveliness itself. Harima smiled back. He even let out a giggle in similar poignant elation.

"Come inside, Harima," bade Tenma, retaining that incredible smile.

Harima didn't need to be asked twice. Tenma pulled him easily along by the hand.


	13. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

The young man in his new light blue clothes walked slowly into the chamber, and the tight, steel cuffs were removed from his wrists. The man in uniform pulled the barred door, sliding it until it locked noisily into place.

His dark eyes watched solemnly as the prison guard twisted the key into the lock. As the guard walked away, Karasuma grasped the steel bars plaintively.

This wasn't his plan. No, not at all.

"Look at what we got here…" chuckled a voice from behind Oji.

Startled, the young man twirled around and was greeted by the sight of a dark figure, clad in the light blue garb of a prison inmate.

"Come here," the man beckoned stupidly.

Karasuma didn't make a move.

"Boy," the inmate growled. He was in the darker recesses of the cell. "Get your skinny little ass here right now,"

Karasuma walked toward him, admittedly a little frightened. What was this about?

"The name's Bubba," said the man, emerging from the darkness as Karasuma approached.

Bubba was rather heavyset, with scraggly black hair erupting from the sides of his head—the top was bald. Bubba smiled wickedly, revealing his incomplete collection of yellow—almost brown—teeth.

"Nice to meet you," stammered Karasuma quietly. "I'm—…"

"Bitch," Bubba finished for him. "You're mine," he growled.

Bubba's prison-strengthened arms took hold of Bitch, seizing him roughly by his blue shirt. With horrifying strength, he was tossed into the steel frame of the bunk-bed, then crashed painfully to the cement floor.

"Aww yeah, bitch," murmured Bubba, approaching slowly.

"What are you doing?" coughed the dazed Bitch.

"Turn your pretty ass around," commanded Bubba, forcefully hoisting Bitch up and onto the bed and twisting him around so that his back was turned to him. He yanked the pants down, revealing the small ass.

"I'm gonna fuck your brown little hole," proclaimed Bubba mercilessly, pulling down his own pants.

"Bitch, if you scream, I'ma kills you," he promised grimly as he started his despicable deed.

Karasuma—no, Bitch—did not scream.

It was a delightfully tight ass. Bubba was happy for that. Bitch (formerly known as Karasuma) was shown no mercy.

He only grunted softly as Bubba bore into his behind, laughing and muttering strange things like "…Juicy…" or "I call this one: The Pokey"

_I deserve this…_ thought Bitch. _…I deserve this…_

THE END


	14. Update!

_**Update:**_

_**I am back to announce that I have begun preparations for The New Adventures of School Rumble: Book 2. (But make no mistake, I've made Dragonball C: Book 3 my priority!)**_

_**I know for a fact that everyone loved it very much, and book 2 will be, unlike book 1, mostly original material.**_

_**Since I know that you're just starved for more N.A.O. SchooRum, I have assembled a handful of notable outtakes from book 1 for you to enjoy for a minute or two.**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>OUTTAKES:<strong>_

_**Warning: These outtakes contain mature language, alcohol, and sexual references. If you do not care for that sort of thing, I suggest that you steer clear from these short bits of literature.**_

* * *

><p><strong>This is a scene from Chapter 2 that I wrote quickly and without too much thought. You might not believe it, but this is actually the first real iteration of this scene. And you may find it no surprise why I changed it so much.<strong>

_**1.) Bathroom: What an unlikely situation…**_

Yakumo stood there, staring intently at herself in the mirror, fiddling with her hair this way and that alternatively. She pouted her lips subtly, showing her disapproval of her appearance as a result of her interference. The younger Tsukamoto immediately went back to work, brushing her hair behind one ear with one hand and cocking head to the opposite side, shaking her head softly to let the hair fall naturally into place.

Behind her, she could hear farts and plopping sounds from behind the stall. As a result of a particularly loud shit blast, Tenma let out a low moan of satisfaction. "It's ropey," Tenma dared to announce.

The sound of the flush of the toilet sounded, and Tenma emerged from the stall and closed the door behind her, sighing with relief. "Hey, you haven't been talking to Harima a whole lot," Tenma reminded her sister. "Is there something wrong? This is _your_ date, too, isn't it?"

"Sis," Yakumo managed to utter. "I want to suck his cock so badly."

Tenma gave Yakumo a perfectly incredulous look, effectively displaying with that gaze the purest shock and disbelief she had ever known. "What?" She asked loudly, her eyes wide with surprise. "I never knew you to be so bold!"

"Well, I said it, and it's the truth," Yakumo confirmed proudly.

* * *

><p><strong>This is a scene from Chapter 4, and like the first outtake, this was the original writing that was tweaked to make it appropriate and relevant. It contains dialogue from Clerks II.<strong>

_**2.) Ass-to-mouth**_

"All right listen up, you guys! Today Tenma get's to be queen all day!" Megumi cried. "So give us your orders, your majesty!"

"Oh really?" asked Tenma, buzzed from the schnapps she'd been drinking from throughout the night. "Okay then, first up is Mikoto!"

"You gotta blow Auso," Tenma drunkenly told Suou, pointing a wobbly finger in the young man's direction. "And we get to watch." she said, sweeping her arm out to encompass the whole of the room. Tsukamoto considered the command for a few moments, then added "And then you have to go ass-to-mouth," She nodded, smiling at her perceived cleverness.

Ausou only looked at Tenma, his disgusted, inquiring expression saying "_are you serious_?"

* * *

><p><strong>This is an interesting bit, but it was scrapped utterly and completely. And for good reason, too—don't doubt. It makes almost zero sense. Nevertheless, I kept it around because it never fails to make me laugh.<strong>

_**4.) Ass-to-mouth, Part 2**_

Mikoto spat out a big chunky blob of viscous semen and glared at Tenma, who was busy draining a bottle of strawberry wine… Meanwhile, a gorilla was swinging crazily from the chandelier nearby.

The gorilla hooted and roared, slapping one long-fingered hand across its genitalia. The ape's shlong twitched slightly as a golden arc of piss sprayed from its tip, showering the drunken guests of Tenma's birthday party.

"Get a load of this!" roared Imadori, lying in a chair with his legs held high above. He was flicking a lighter over his asshole, and when the flame lit, a considerable blast of methane gas cracked forth from the sphincter, producing a loud BLAT sound, followed by the instant immolation of his whole body, and the recliner.

He screamed and howled, leaping up from his perch and he flailed his blazing arms this way and that, shrieking insanely for help.

"Don't worry!" cried La La Gonzales, brandishing a full bottle of tequila. "I shall douse the flames!" She popped the bottle open and splashed it over Imadori's charred body, and the fire exploded to even greater life, forcing La La to leap away in retreat.


End file.
